FAIR  LADY 
f  HALIFAX 

Ronlei<5  n  Je  Lonval 


Library 

OF  THE 

University  of  NortH  Carolina 

This  book  was  presented  by 


tdLwa>i~aU>  *»     '^  rzru_cdj£J< 


'o**y 


C  ?i  5-  Prnf 


c.z 


I 


This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO 
WEEKS  ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine 
of  FIVE  CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  was 
taken  out  on  the  day  indicated  below: 

30  Aug  ^ 
8  Aug  "W 
30  Dec' 

570c'36C 


THE  FAIR  LADY  OF  HALIFAX 


THE  FAIR  LADY  OF  HALIFAX 


OR 


COLMEY'S  SIX  HUNDRED 


BY 
RONLEIGH  DE  CONVAL 


RALEIGH,  N.  C. 
Edwards  &  Broughton  Printing  Co. 

1920 


Copyright 

1920 

By  John  Alfred  Pollock 


Dedicated 

to 

MY  MOTHER 


PREFACE 


"The  Blessed  Gods — 
Purge  all  infection  from  our  air  whilst  you 
Do  climate  here." 

We  stand  in  awe  as  we  contemplate,  the  Trinity,  i.e., 
earth,  fire,  and  water;  and  their  essentiality  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  subtle  infinities,  i.e.,  life,  light,  and  liberty. 
What  brain  so  broad,  that  can  compass  the  majesty  of  the 
imperialistic  intellection  of  the  human  mind?  The  air  and 
the  sky  seem  a  part  of  ourselves.  What  gauge  is  there  that 
can  measure  the  depthless  desires  of  the  human  heart? 
What  medicament  can  soothe  the  heart's  unrest?  What 
plummet  line  can  safely  sound  the  wondrous  caverns  of 
our  existence,  and  unfold  intelligently  unto  us  our  manifest, 
our  deathless  destiny?  Is  it  not  enough  to  know  that  there 
is  a  high  Wisdom  that  will  direct,  an  all-seeing  Eye  that 
will  not  sleep,  and  a  Love  that  never  faileth?  No  indi- 
vidual, much  less  a  nation,  can  idly  evaluate  the  precious- 
ness  of  time,  can  wisely  spend  in  wantonness  the  youth,  the 
manhood,  the  virility,  that  should  be  conserved  for  the 
support  of  the  nobler  energies,  i.e.,  of  venturous  valor, 
national  possessions,  of  farsighted  diplomacy,  of  cherish- 
ing, encouraging,  and  perfecting  every  effort  to  make  for 
the  betterment  of  humanity.  It  is  the  fate  of  man  to  be 
harried  by  war  and  rumors  of  war.  The  Cavalier's  motto, 
"Dangers  and  death  to  the  Devil,"  was  accepted  by  many 
as  the  best  rule  to  be  governed  by,  as  carnage  and  battles 
seem  to  be  never  ending.  Is  this  world  merely  a  workshop 
for  the  lowly?  Is  it  for  some,  a  secret  chamber  to  web 
wiles  to  ensnare  the  innocent?  And  to  the  multitude  is  it 
for  them  to  be  regimented  in  a  great  battlefield,  to  them  a 


viii  Preface 

featureless  future,  to  the  conquering  commander  a  sinecure, 
a  palace,  often  a  royal  scepter?  Men,  idealists,  philan- 
thropists, cry  out  against  warring  of  the  nations,  but  whence 
strength  but  by  struggle?  What  braces  the  nerves,  hardens 
the  thews  of  the  virile  embattled  hosts,  but  the  danger  and 
the  blows  of  conflict?  Resistance  is  life.  England  has 
been  for  centuries  the  world's  battleground,  if  it  is  a 
secluded  water-bound  island.  The  Viking,  the  Dane,  the 
Frank,  the  Angles,  and  the  Romans  have  desired  to  possess 
the  white-clad  isle  called  Albion.  The  climate,  fairly  fine, 
had  at  times  its  foggy,  its  muggy  weather,  yet  it  seemed  to 
woo  them  to  remain.  Haughty  Boadicea  had  become  so 
weakened  by  the  continuous  combats,  she  could  no  longer 
by  her  brave  example  cheer  the  hearts  of  her  people.  The 
Ivenci,  Hengist  the  Hardy,  and  the  peerless  Alfred  clashed 
and  fought  their  adversaries  successfully  and  then  died, 
mourned  over  and  loved  until  now.  Then  warlike  John 
spoke  mortal  defiance  "from  the  mouth  of  England"  to  the 
Archbishop  of  Rome  and  then  fought  to  a  finish  embattled 
France.  Plantagenet  and  Tudor  arose  to  heights  and  then 
passed  away,  leaving  a  broad  stain  of  blood  behind  them. 
Fascinating  Elizabeth,  after  a  fanfare  of  drums  proclaim- 
ing the  wreck  of  the  Spanish  Armada,  is  next  seen  weeping 
over  her  lover  Essex.  And  then  came  to  strut  upon  the 
stage  base-hearted  little  King  James.  Born  afrit  (to  vent 
his  spite  and  spleen  upon  betters)  he  vented  his  spite  and 
spleen,  willingly  instructed  by  cunning  Cecil  and  envious 
Coke.  The  martial,  the  romantic  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
aroused  their  envy,  and  was  by  their  machinations  victim- 
ized :  God  rest  his  knightly  soul.  The  condemned  man  has 
been  by  an  admiring  world  immortalized,  his  royal  mur- 
derer lies  under  the  curses  of  the  many.  Queen  Anne,  of 
blessed  memory,  a  good  sovereign,  a  loving  mother,  and  a 
kind  friend,  came  to  the  throne,  acted  her  part,  and  is  now 
sleeping  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking,  with  her  seventeen 
children  resting  beside  her.     May  your  body  rest  sweetly, 


Preface  ix 

good  lady,  among  your  loving  subjects,  and  your  divine 
spirit  find  ready  entrance  into  the  land  of  the  pure  and  holy. 
Now  came  the  Elector  of  Hanover  to  sit  and  stare  with  his 
wide-open  German  eyes  at  a  people  he  did  not  understand,  a 
people  that  could  not  understand  him.  It  is  well  that  expedi- 
ency and  toleration  are  Anglo-Saxon  virtues,  for  the  thick- 
lipped  Elector,  now  with  trepidation,  sat  upon  great  Henry's 
throne.  King  George  was  seated  and  crowned  the  Sovereign 
of  Britain.  His  Majesty  was  frightened  and  almost  frantic 
over  wars,  intrigues,  and  rumors  of  wars  that  might  affect 
his  kingdom.  He  mortally  feared  the  Stuart  heirs  and 
their  popularity.  He  entered  into  alliances  that  might 
benefit  himself  and  help  himself  to  keep  his  Germanic 
possessions.  He  was  dull  and  phlegmatic,  and  the  Whigs, 
and  the  Pope,  and  the  name  of  Cromwell  harassed  his  very 
innermost  soul.  He  dreaded  the  French  fleet,  he  hated  the 
Irish  for  vexing  him,  and  for  Scotland  he  had  spies,  troops, 
paid  informers,  and  golden  baits  for  her  money-loving 
lairds.  His  Parliament  was  ready  to  hang  and  behead,  war 
and  burn,  when  they  thought  it  was  necessary  to  overawe 
and  subjugate  outspoken  subjects  who  dared  to  think  for 
themselves.  At  heart  man  is  aristocratic,  and  believes  in 
heraldry  and  castes.  In  mind  he  holds  to  democracy, 
equality,  and  fraternity. 

The  battle  of  the  Boyne  had  broken  the  warlike  spirit  of 
the  subjects  of  the  beautiful  isle;  but  Bannockburn  was 
something  else  to  consider.  Lord  Forbes's  idea  had  been 
approved  by  Earl  Hay,  and  by  Walpole  accepted;  but  the 
weighty  advice  had  met  with  royal  disapproval.  England 
had  come  to  acknowledge  in  Cabinet  that  the  Scots  were 
unconquerable.  Now  some  way  must  be  found  to  get  the 
fiery,  wild  Highlanders  to  see  the  need  of  observing  union 
of  the  two  countries.  Forts  and  highways,  and  troops  of 
Scottish  extraction  had  to  be  raised,  paid  for,  and  estab- 
lished. The  Lowlander,  being  either  a  Saxon  or  a  Norman, 
naturally  was  anxious  for  peace  and  unity  to  exist  unre- 


x  Preface 

mittingly  between  the  two  peoples  (of  England  and  Scot- 
land) ;  and  he  knew  that  commerce,  civilization,  and 
progress  went  hand  in  hand  together. 

The  violent  agitation  of  religious  beliefs  and  ceremonies 
was  so  intense  that  dissensions  and  rebellions  were  of  fre- 
quent occurrence  in,  and  also  out  of,  the  confines  of  Great 
Britain.  The  Preacher  of  Bedford  Jail's  writings  (John 
Bunyan),  the  thunders  of  John  Knox,  the  spirit  of  Crom- 
well, were  stirring  the  masses;  and  the  erected  gallows  at 
Edinburgh,  the  murderous  acts  of  the  Tower,  had  an  intimi- 
dating recollection  with  all  the  people.  England's  safety 
lay  largely  in  the  fact  that  she  was  body  and  soul  conserva- 
tive. An  Englishman  hates  a  change,  he  loves  his  prince 
and  willingly  follows  precedent.  The  nobility  and  money 
barons  dreaded  rebellion.  Therefore,  the  House  of  Han- 
over was  staunchly  supported  by  power  and  wealth.  The 
colonies  of  Britain — Virginia,  South  Carolina,  and  North 
Carolina — felt  the  throbbings  from  far  across  the  waters. 
The  Sage  of  "Burnhill  Fields"  was  read  by  the  educated, 
and  the  "tales  of  the  Covenanters"  were  told  and  drunk  in 
by  greedy  ears.  Holland  and  England,  both  tired  of  war, 
had  patched  up  a  peace,  and  Fontenoy  and  Minden  wit- 
nessed heavy  losses  by  the  British;  yet  their  steady  courage, 
their  unflinching  obedience  to  the  Duke  of  Cumberland's 
orders  had  preserved  their  army  intact,  and  made  all  op- 
ponents respect  the  endurance  and  valor  of  the  sturdy 
soldiers  of  the  British  Empery. 

The  often  wars  on  the  Continent  had  given  experience  to 
the  growing  Empire  that  now  was  recognized  as  one  of  the 
world's  coming  powers.  Men  who  had  had  experience  in 
foreign  wars,  and  had  seen  the  severe  punishment  inflicted 
on  the  people  of  Ireland  and  Scotland,  were  ready  to  hear 
that  somewhere  on  the  earth's  fair  surface  there  was  a  place 
where  man  was  not  watched,  weighed  and  slaughtered  at  the 
mandate  of  those  in  power.  The  wonderful  resources  and 
inviting  climate  of  the  land  for  away  westward  was  believed 


Preface  xi 

to  be  an  asylum  for  the  persecuted  and  downtrodden  of  all 
nations,  was  heralded  to  all  the  world.  The  surging  sea 
was  no  barrier  to  men  anxious  to  escape  the  undue  surveil- 
lance of  police  and  inferiors.  Romance  and  ambition  were 
beckoning  stars.  The  adventurous  spirits  braved  the  briny 
deep  and  complacently  made  their  homes  in  the  bosky,  cool 
retreats  of  the  virgin  forests,  beside  the  broad,  beautiful 
streams,  where  the  evening  air  was  laden  with  the  smell  of 
grape  and  laurel.  The  climate  was  temperate,  the  soil 
fruitful,  and  night  and  day  they  were  to  feel  free  and 
untrammeled  amidst  Nature's  rough  repose.  The  people  of 
that  day  were  not  contemplative,  yet  they  were  resourceful. 

"0  tempora,  0  mores."  It  was  in  a  day  when  Wahm- 
takes  held  sway;  it  was  when  one  was  elected  to  the  Com- 
mons, he  could  not  resign  his  seat  if  the  duties  were  onerous 
and  burdensome,  and  only  through  a  Crown  appointment 
could  he  escape  from  the  thraldom  of  his  legislative  office. 
A.D.  1704  was  the  day  of  Abigail  Masham;  Blenheim  had 
been  fought  and  won. 

Among  the  several  who  crossed  the  waters  seeking  fame 
and  fortune  in  Carolina  were  Baron  De  Graffenried,  Law- 
son,  Mitchell,  Moseley,  and  Pollock.  These  men  were  to 
be  identified  with  the  early  fortune  and  misfortune  of  their 
new  and  sparsely  settled  homes,  washed  by  the  waters  of 
the  Albemarle,  the  Neuse,  and  the  Trent.  De  Graffenried 
was  a  man  of  high  birth  in  Switzerland  and  of  an  adven- 
turous disposition;  Mitchell,  a  Switzer,  was  a  man  of 
ability  and  means;  and  Lawson,  a  Scotch-English,  was  a 
civil  engineer  and  a  historian  par  excellence.  Moseley 
was  assertive,  talented,  and  ambitious  for  riches  and  office ; 
and  Pollock,  from  Renfrewshire,  was  highly  educated, 
courtly  and  wealthy,  and  had  served  in  the  military  service 
of  Flanders  and  France.  The  times  were  seasons  of  unrest, 
dangers,  and  irritations. 

.  De  Graffenried  became  disgusted,  sold  out  and  departed ; 
Mitchell  held  on  and  proved  himself  a  stout  soldier  at 


xii  Preface 

Barnwell;  Lawson  was  captured  by  the  savages  and  bar- 
barously burned;  and  Moseley  and  Pollock  became  ac- 
cepted leaders;  men  of  markedly  opposite  characters,  with 
different  viewpoints,  and  who  became,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
endless  political  enemies.  Both  men  had  an  innate  apti- 
tude for  politics  and  finance. 

The  many  governors  that  had  been  appointed  rulers  in 
Carolina   had    received    different   treatment.     Gales    and 
Swann,  men  of  sterling  worth,  served  faithfully  the  Colony, 
ever  trusty  and  capable.     Some  of  the  people  were  treated 
fairly,  some  roughly,  and  some  respectfully.     The  world 
seemed  to  be  in  an  upstir  and  all  bindings  seemed  to  be 
unhasped.     Imperial  Rome  had  but  a  poor  beginning,  and 
at  one  time  was  in  bad  shape.     The  free  sans-souci  life  of 
the  Red  Man  of  the  wilds  of  Carolina  had  reflex  influence 
on  the  white  settlers.     Virginia  called  Carolina  with  much 
concern  the  "Rogues'  Harbor,"  and  the  Carolinians  laugh- 
ingly retorted,  "0  Ye  White  Slave  Pen!"     The  men  from 
over  the  sea  intuitively  recognized  the  solemn  fact  that  the 
Indians  racially  were  a  menace.     Men  grew  up  without 
knowing  priests,  schoolmasters,  or  sergeants-at-law.    There 
were  no  tenants.     Later  on,  to  have  protection  at  law  a 
person  had  to  be  a  Churchman.     Church  and  State  go  hand 
in  hand.     Man  was  made  to  believe.     The  Quakers  early 
had  a  footing  in  the  settlement,  and  their  voice,  their  inde- 
pendence of  speech,  drollness  of  dress,  their  peculiar  re- 
ligious belief,  their  church  creed  was  felt;  by  some  ac- 
cepted, by  some  derided.     There  were  a  few  blacksmiths, 
carpenters,  and   cobblers.     With  Virginia   to   her  north, 
South  Carolina  to  her  south,  and  a  wilderness  on  her  west; 
with  no  accepted  seaport  of  importance,  knowing  that  she 
was  nominally  at  the  mercy  of  her  two  wealthier  dominant 
neighbors,    Carolina   still   felt   within   herself   an    innate 
strength  and  bravely  and  hopefully  trusted  to  the  future. 
Medicine  expectante. 


Preface  xiii 

The  fights  at  Forts  Barnwell  and  Nohoroco  won  Carolina 
for  the  white  race.  Even  the  great  Thomas  Jefferson,  when 
approached,  hesitated  as  to  acknowledging  North  Carolina 
the  rights  of  a  colony.  He  was  anxious  as  to  Virginia's 
possibilities  being  interfered  with.  "Will  North  Carolina 
pinch  Virginia?"  was  his  thought.  South  Carolina  had  her 
Charleston,  Virginia  had  her  Norfolk,  and  both  states 
quietly  determined  to  hold  their  vantage  ground.  (See 
notes.)  North  Carolina  was  too  weak  then  to  hack  her  way 
to  the  Nansemond. 

What!  Out  of  miles  upon  miles  of  sea  front  God  had 
not  provided  an  acceptable  harbor?  Bah!  North  Carolina, 
being  one  of  the  greatest  states  ever  formed  by  Divine 
Wisdom,  can  afford  to  wait  and  win;  and  win  she  will! 
The  lofty  white  oak  of  Carolina  will  surely  overtop  every 
tree  north  and  south  of  her  in  due  time.  When  some 
highly  inspired  engineer  places  his  finger  on  Cape  Lookout, 
then  comes  freedom!  then  comes  a  world-wide  harbor! 
"North  Carolina  is  an  empire  in  embryo,"  was  said  by  one 
of  her  greatest  sons.  New  Hanover,  Edgecombe,  and 
Onslow  were  precincts  up  to  1733;  now  look  at  them. 

Many  of  the  people  had  come  across  the  dangerous  deep 
deeply  impressed  with  their  fathers'  ideals.  The  truth  of 
facts  and  of  wealth  were  their  passion  and  pride,  and 
solvency  an  irrefutable  basic  state  principle;  and  every 
mans  house  his  castle. 

If  this  story  was  found  among  some  old  Cullendale 
papers,  it  is  but  at  best  a  haphazard  romance  of  Carolina, 
founded  on  fact,  fiction,  and  tradition  that  the  "sheeted 
dead"  may  live  and  have  a  being  and  move  among  us  once 
again:  Selah!  Believing  that  all  men  love  to  read  of  those 
who  went  before,  met  danger  and  obstructions,  and  over- 
came all  that  then  confronted  them,  this  simple  tale  is 
respectfully  submitted  for  their  rejection  or  acceptance. 

RONLEIGH  DE  CONVAL. 

January  8,  1917. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  The  Indians  of  Carolina 3 

II.  Glasgow 8 

III.  The  Prince  Royal  Stables 15 

IV.  Colmey's  Musings 20 

V.  The  Great  Outlaw  of  the  Highlands 24 

VI.  The  So-Called  Pretender,  Charles  Edward       .     .  34 

VII.  The  English  and  Scotch  Armies 38 

VIII.  The  Battle  of  Culloden 43 

IX.  The  Moor  of  Drummossie 52 

X.  The  Defeat  and  Retreat  from  Culloden  ....  58 

XI.  The  Council  at  Balgray 62 

XII.  The  Meeting  of  Friends 69 

XIII.  The  Meeting  of  the   Chiefs  at   Fort   Nohoroco 

or  Nahucky 74 

XIV.  The  Water  Find  and  Provisions  of  Nahucky  Fort  81 
XV.  The  Advance  to  Meet  Moore 90 

XVI.  Coucil  of  War 99 

XVII.  The  Old  Pamlico  Stockade 103 

XVIII.  At  Edenton  Council 107 

XIX.  Tall  Feather 113 

XX.  Black  Wolf's  Night  Attack 122 

XXI.  Colonel  Moore's  Attack  on  the  Indians  ....  129 

XXII.  The  Woman  in  the  Tunnel 134 

XXIII.  After  the  Battle  Was  Over 137 

XXIV.  Peace 141 

XXV.  Wilmington  to  Edenton 143 

XXVI.  Laurel  Ridge 149 

XXVII.  Bazzell's  Story  of  His  Capture 158 

XXVIII.  Bazzell's  Second  Story 171 

XXIX.  The  Dividing  Line 175 

XXX.  Colmey  Place 181 

XXXI.  The  Race 190 

XXXII.  Upstairs  at  Colmey  Place 197 

XXXIII.  The  Gypsy  Camp 202 

XXXIV.  The  Order  of  The  Royal  Cedar 217 

XXXV.  Sword  Tourney 222 


XVI 


Contents 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXXVI.  Colmey's  Departure  from  Halifax 230 

XXXVII.  The  Pasturage  of  the  Tides 234 

XXXVIII.  Lola  Banbury  at  Montfort 239 

XXXIX.  Miss  Banbury's  Return  and  Marriage    ....  243 

XL.  Uncle  Joshua's  Wedding 247 

XLI.  The  Coming  Revolution 255 

XLH.  Fulbert  Manor 260 

XLIII.  Moore's  Bridge  Battle 267 

XLIV.  Camp  Johnstone,  Lake  Catharine 273 

XLV.  Leonati's  Crossing  (or  Adkins) 278 

XLVI.  A  Hornets'  Nest  on  Flag 283 

XLVII.  The  Halifax  Fight 288 

XLVIII.  The  Horse  at  the  Well 294 

XLIX.  Remo  and  Merlin 305 

L.  White  Poplars 311 

LI.  A  Hasty  Return  to  Halifax 314 

LII.  In  Mrs.  Montfort's  Room 323 

LIII.  Tete-a-Tete 335 

LIV.  Boiling  and  Burton 340 

LV.  Home  Again 344 

LVI.  Belfield  Camp 349 

LVII.  The  Stony  Creek  Charge 353 

LVIII.  Hicksford 360 

LIX.  Colmey's  Six  Hundred 368 

LX.  Uncle  Mac 372 

LXI.  Roanoke  Camp 377 

LXII.  Jean  Colmey  and  May  Montfort 382 

LXIII.  The  Rout  of  the  Tories 387 

LXIV.  Colonel  Colmey's  Tent 392 

LXV.  Departure  of  Battalion  for  the  Coast-lands     .     .  397 

Notes 405 

Balgray 406 

True  Story  of  the  Tuscarora  Indians      ....  407 

The  Distingue  of  the  Three  Squadrons  ....  408 


THE  FAIR  LADY  OF  HALIFAX 


THE  FAIR  LADY  OF  HALIFAX 


THE  INDIANS  OF  CAROLINA 

"//  /  demand, 
What  rub  or  what  impediment  there  is, 
Why  that  the  naked  poor  mangled  Peace 
Should  not  in  this  best  garden  of  the  World 
Put  on  her  lovely  visage."     .     .     . 

It  would  be  a  grievous  mistake  for  one  to  think  that  the 
white  settlers  of  Carolina  had  a  thriftless,  cowardly  race  to 
do  and  deal  with  during  the  momentous  Seventeenth  Cen- 
tury from  1680  to  1780.  The  Indian  is  by  nature  an 
aristocrat.  He  is  loyal  to  his  chief  and  his  tribe,  and  he 
will  have  his  crest,  be  it  bear,  buffalo,  or  beaver.  His 
cunning,  his  courage,  his  pertinacity  would  bespeak  for 
him  of  Jewish  extraction.  (See  notes.)  But  he  is  beard- 
less and  longhaired,  and  no  hoarder  of  precious  metals. 
Tall,  well-formed,  and  ambitious,  he  delights  in  the  chase 
and  in  war.  In  the  presence  of  strangers  stoical,  their 
women  at  night  lead  in  the  dance,  and  their  aged  advisers 
sit  in  the  shadows.  The  Algonquins  and  Iroquois  are  con- 
sidered among  the  foremost  of  Indian  tribes,  and  many 
tribes  in  North  Carolina  are  descended  from  them.  The 
Tuscaroras  were  of  the  immortal  stock  of  the  Iroquois,  and 
had  for  years  mixed  and  married  with  Senecas,  Mohawks, 
Oneidas,  supposed  to  have  migrated  to  Carolina  in  the 
Sixteenth  Century.  The  Montreal  massacre  was  well  known 


4  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

to  every  warrior  of  the  Carolina  tribes,  whose  people  had 
occupied  the  tidal  section  beyond  the  memory  of  man. 
When  aroused  they  were  a  warlike  people,  and  they  held  in 
contempt  cowardice,  pain,  and  stealing  from  their  own 
tribe.  The  Tuscarora  Indian  in  dignity  and  loyalty  was 
not  surpassed  by  any  race  of  men.  He  met  his  white 
brother  at  first  and  for  years  inoffensively.  He  came  from 
a  race  whose  eloquence  and  gesture  had  ever  had  the  admi- 
ration of  every  European  that  ever  came  in  contact  with 
them.  In  courage,  in  submission  to  his  leader,  in  bearing 
pain  and  exposure,  who  had  ever  surpassed  the  Tuscarora? 
The  citizens  of  the  subterranean  cities,  the  mound-builders, 
had  to  give  way  to  the  Red  Man.  The  Five  Nations  were 
united  for  mutual  protection.  The  Northern  Indians  of 
the  Iroquois  found  meat  and  shelter  with  the  Tuscaroras. 
The  old  men  of  these  Five  Nations  visited  and  advised  each 
tribe  when  danger  was  threatening,  from  the  Penobscot  to 
Pamlico.  The  Five  Great  Nations  and  the  Tuscaroras  were 
recognized  as  the  highest  type  of  Indian  excellence.  Their 
roaming  bands  from  Canada  to  Carolina  met  and  held  their 
own  with  high  achievement  until  the  white  race  entered  the 
list  of  combatants.  The  Tuscarora  united  power  and  pol- 
icy, and  he  was  the  Roman  of  the  Stone  Age.  He  felt  his 
superiority,  he  fought  for  sovereignty.  He  knew,  if  pressed 
too  hard,  his  wild  cry  would  be  heard  by  his  blood-kin,  the 
Senecas  and  the  Hurons,  across  the  continent.  From  the 
bosky  dells  of  the  Mohawk  to  the  shimmering  sounds  near 
the  sea  he  stripped  himself  for  the  fray  and  proudly  war- 
whooped  "Here!  I  dare  do  what  man  dares."  His  pride, 
his  ready  capacity  to  meet  emergencies,  made  him  a  for- 
midable foe.  Those  mentioned  tribes  kept  open  their  trails 
from  Lake  Champlain  to  Lake  Mattamuskeet. 

East  Carolina  has  ever  been  a  land  of  romance  and 
adventure,  and  if  the  writer  in  a  poor  way  can  revitalize 
the  brave  people  now  no  more — King  Blount  and  Hancock, 


The  Indians  of  Carolina  5 

King  Taylor  and  others;  reanimate  their  sleeping  forms 
acceptably,  he  will  feel  amply  rewarded  for  his  labor. 

Some  of  these  Indians  were  painters;  and  to  their  elo- 
quence as  orators,  with  no  schoolmaster  to  train  them,  are 
compared  Pericles  and  Demosthenes,  the  most  famous  ora- 
tors the  world  ever  listened  to.  From  general  or  corporal, 
from  president  to  ploughboy,  these  red  men  of  the  forest 
claimed  close  attention  and  thrilled  and  amazed  the  white 
race. 

Logan,  Redjacket,  Brant  and  Grangula,  Cornplanter  and 
King  Blount  are  as  orators  and  warriors  classed  amongst 
men,  standing  out  in  bold  relief,  and  splendid  specimens  of 
manhood.  Their  stonework,  the  spear  and  ax,  the  toma- 
hawk and  arrow,  the  mortar  and  digging  tools,  their  knowl- 
edge of  subterranean  cities,  marked  them  men  who  had 
come  in  deadly  contact  with  the  cave-dwellers  and  mound- 
builders,  and  came  off  victorious.  (See  notes.)  They 
had  heard  all  their  lives  of  their  tribe's  victorious  advance. 
They  understood  tidology,  they  recognized  the  balm,  the 
sweetening  qualities  of  the  North  Wind.  Without  star  or 
compass,  without  light  or  leader,  the  law  of  direction  was 
so  deeply  planted  in  their  make-up  that  they  found  their 
way,  reached  the  port  they  were  looking  for  with  an  ease,  a 
certainty  that  astonished  the  white  race.  Did  they  have  a 
"sixth  sense"? 

Their  women  excelled  in  basketry  work,  in  bead  and 
feather  fashionings.  Their  necklaces  and  wampums  were 
decked  with  elks'  teeth,  boar  tusks,  and  shells  of  rare  beauty 
and  price.  Their  paintings  of  buffalo  and  white  wolf 
robes  have  been  the  envy  of  the  Caucasians. 

A  celebrated  writer  has  written  that  the  time  will  come 
when  the  institutions,  the  policy,  eloquence,  and  achieve- 
ments of  this  remarkable  people  will  be  the  themes  of  study 
for  the  youth  of  our  schools  of  learning. 

"Who  is  the  American  Indian?  Who  was  the  Yucatan?" 
Their  convocations  led  one  of  our  Jesuit  historians  to  liken 


6  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

them  to  the  Roman  Senate  in  session.  A  veteran  General 
(Dodge),  after  an  extensive  experience  in  wars,  says  that 
the  Indian  is  the  finest  natural  soldier  the  world  had  ever 
seen.  The  sachems  are  as  emperors;  their  chiefs,  their 
kings.  The  crossing  of  swords  between  Colonists  and  Brit- 
ish was  without  romance  and  mystery.  Not  so  with  the 
Indian.  (Colonial  Records,  Vol.  I,  978,  979.)  He  is 
modest  in  council  and  obedient  to  his  chief,  never  swears, 
keeps  his  promise,  and  is  decent  in  behavior. 

They  are  passing;  but  as  they  pass  let  us  ask,  Did  the 
Germanic  hordes,  Anglo-Saxon  and  others,  leave  behind 
them  a  more  glorious  manly  record?  Did  they  equal  the 
Indian  in  fine  eloquence?  Did  they  surpass  him  in  indom- 
itable courage?  Who  was  Attila,  thundering  at  the  gates 
of  Rome?  Was  he  governed  by  written  laws?  Nay!  The 
lion  once  lived  in  classic  Greece  and  measured  his  length 
across  the  plains  of  Palestine.  The  white  race  is  super- 
human— white  blood  is  divine,  and  Jehovah  lands  them 
safely  into  the  bays  of  books  and  Bibles — upon  heights 
impregnable! 

The  Indian  withstood  the  shock — the  stress  of  the  storms 
of  adversity,  uncomplainingly,  but  he  could  not  withstand 
Destiny.  He  persistently  held  to  his  racial  personality. 
He  despised  written  laws,  book  religion,  and  a  settled  habi- 
tation. He  was  to  remain  enmeshed  in  the  forest  lore  of 
his  fathers.  He  had  no  desire  to  unravel  the  nice  techni- 
calities of  civilization,  or  submit  willingly  to  the  formali- 
ties of  lame-legged  law.  Like  unto  the  Goths  and  Huns, 
his  sunlight  has  set  in  darkness — once  powerful — now 
vanquished.  The  expulsion  of  the  best  braves  from  the 
Neuse  and  the  Chowan  to  the  vales  of  the  Mohawk  and  the 
Little  Montreal  was  effected  in  1715,  and  they  there  became 
an  integral  portion  of  the  confederacy,  constituting  the 
Sixth  Nation.  Then  and  there  the  Tuscarora  faced  his 
irrevocable  doom.  He  saw  before  him  his  future  beclouded 
with  many  tragedies;  yet  manfully,  tirelessly,  he  lined  up 


The  Indians  of  Carolina  7 

majestically  with  an  unruffled  brow  and  an  unconquerable 
spirit.  Adieu!  Fondly  adieu!  His  frail  cypress  canoe 
is  being  pushed  into  the  unremembered  sea.  Deep  sorrow 
surrounds  him.  He  lifts  his  head  and  looks  westward. 
Then  calmly — column  like — with  upward  view,  his  dark 
eye  is  fixed  hopefully  on  the  happy  blue-vaulted  gateway. 
Dusky — fearless — forlorn  brother — all  hail!     Farewell! 


II 


GLASGOW 

"Upon  a  great  adventure  he  was  bound: 
Which  all  earthly  things  he  most  did  crave, 
To  prove  his  puissance  in  battle  brave." 

— Spenser. 

In  his  room  in  the  old  city  of  Glasgow  sat  a  young  man 
reading  Cornelius  Nepos'  writings  of  the  Excellent  Com- 
manders. There  he  was  told  that  Epaminondas  was  taught 
music;  that  among  other  fine  qualities  he  reckoned  his  mas- 
tery of  the  flute,  and  that  he  danced  handsomely.  He  read 
that  that  which  was  honorable  with  the  Roman,  was  consid- 
ered scandalous  with  the  Greek:  for  instance,  a  Roman 
thought  it  well  to  take  his  wife  to  a  feast ;  the  Greek  consid- 
ered it  rude,  and  that  only  the  woman's  apartment  was  the 
place  for  her  except  in  a  feast  with  relatives;  that  Cimon 
the  Great  married  his  half-sister,  after  the  usages  of  his 
forefathers,  while  in  Rome  it  was  considered  criminal.  So 
he  pondered.  He  asked  himself,  What  is  man?  Is  he  but 
a  creature  of  environment — of  usage?  He  was  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  the  Old  Bible  was  faithful  in  holding  up 
to  view  man's  excellencies  and  his  many  shortcomings.  In 
a  word,  he  felt  impressed  with  the  truth  that  a  charitable 
view  should  be  taken  of  the  laws  and  ways  of  our  neighbors, 
and  silently  wondered  how  Honorius'  beautiful  sister  could 
consent  to  marry  the  hated  leader  of  the  Goths. 

In  the  midst  of  his  reveries  his  roommate  came  in: 
"Colmey,  shall  we  go  to  the  meet?"  "Will  Rutledge  be 
one  of  our  number,  Capehart?"  These  three  young  men 
were  Americans,  were  attending  school  in  the  famous  acad- 
emies of  the  city  built  upon  the  confines  of  the  river  Clyde. 


Glasgow  9 

At  the  meet  the  hawkers  were  ready.  They  were  advised 
to  at  once  go  for  the  quarry. 

The  beautiful  birds  were  of  interest  to  the  students.  One 
was  a  white  with  black  neck  and  tips;  the  other  was  a  blue 
ash  with  her  throat  a  rich  buff.  Their  spread  of  wing  was 
three  and  one-half  feet.  When  loosed  and  the  prey  is 
small  they  attack  at  once;  but  if  large  of  beak  and  com- 
bative, then  the  falcon  is  cunning.  She  soars  above  and 
below,  and  makes  turns  and  wheels  with  great  dexterity, 
awaiting  a  favorable  moment  for  her  to  strike.  She  brings 
the  game  down  slowly  and  in  circles,  and  lands  the  prey  as 
near  as  she  can  to  where  her  keeper  is  standing;  knowing 
that  her  reward  is  sure  to  be  a  well-prepared  dainty  meal. 
It  requires  patience,  it  takes  time,  to  train  a  falcon  prop- 
erly. The  male  is  seldom  ever  in  favoritism.  He  is  more 
lazy — not  so  fierce  as  the  fema'le.  As  in  all  trades  and 
callings,  envy  and  jealousy  are  soon  manifest.  These  fal- 
coners, like  politicians,  openly  and  plainly  discredited  each 
other's  birds.  "Allen,  you  know  your  bird  is  a  tercel." 
"Liar,  mine  is  a  Bautere."  "Nothing  but  a  falconet,  Ron- 
ald, or  by  St.  Andrew  may  I  be  hung  on  Christmas  day!" 
"You  half -fed  son  of  a  street  sweeper,  mine  is  a  'noble'  and 
strikes  from  above  the  quarry." 

Nearing  a  small  tarn,  a  pair  of  moor  hawks  could  be 
plainly  seen,  and  their  blue  backs  and  white  rumps  made  a 
handsome  air  picture.  But  the  falconers  were  quarreling 
and  their  falcons  wanted  to  be  crabbing.  So  earnestly 
were  they  berating  each  other  that  the  hawks  disappeared 
in  the  hillside  trees  before  the  students  could  get  to  see 
them.  Further  on  the  hawkers  espied  a  pair  of  kestrels, 
the  gray-and-black  dressed  male  and  his  mate  in  reddish 
brown.  They  were  lazily  sailing  fairly  high,  watching  for 
fish  and  mice. 

"There,  you  pair  of  picklocks,  do  you  hear?  Set  your 
birds  astir."  The  roughness  of  the  students  made  the 
hawkers  hush  their  wrangling.     The  falcons  were  thrown 


10  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

off,  the  bewits  having  been  carefully  removed  by  each  mas- 
ter. Both  hawkers  gave  a  hearty,  cheery  "halloo"  to  their 
unhooded  birds.  The  hawkers  gazed  anxiously  and  silently 
upward,  watching  the  circling  and  quick  diving  of  their 
falcons.  Each  kestrel  became  frightened,  seeing  the  falcons 
loosened,  and  took  an  opposite  direction.  Each  went  up- 
ward and  upward,  giving  out  shrill,  fierce  cries  as  they 
realized  their  danger.  Every  feather  was  put  to  its  best  to 
hasten  their  flight  and  escape  from  their  pursuers.  The 
falcons,  at  first  enjoying  their  freedom,  kept  in  wake  of  the 
flying-for-life  kestrels;  but,  seeing  their  quarry  holding 
good  wings  and  with  intention  to  get  away  from  them,  they 
increased  their  speed  and  wonderfully  overtook  the  fright- 
ened flyers.  They  circled  around  and  about,  and  then  both 
with  a  shrill  cry  attacked  almost  simultaneously  each  its 
quarry.  The  kestrels  fought  off  as  best  they  could,  but 
knew  they  were  doomed.  Both  falcons,  in  a  daring  stroke, 
fastened  beak  and  talons  in  the  less  powerful  kestrels  and 
came  circling  down  from  midair  to  the  heather-covered 
earth.  The  hawkers  ran  rapidly  to  their  birds  to  unfasten 
the  deep  grip.  Each  hawker  claimed  victory  for  his  bird, 
that  his  bird  was  "faster,"  "made  more  circles,"  "made 
more  dives,"  and  "struck  the  prey  more  promptly."  As 
they  were  about  to  come  to  blows  the  students  interfered, 
and  giving  each  hawker  the  "siller"  he  expected,  all  became 
merry  and  hilarious. 

On  their  way  back  to  the  city  they  met  a  party  of  gentle- 
men and  ladies,  grooms  and  equerries,  who  were  out  for  a 
"coursing."  The  Earl  Crawford  is  a  great  nobleman.  The 
graceful  highly-bred  greyhounds  were  safe  in  their  leashes, 
and  the  noble  looks  of  the  men,  the  gaiety  and  archness  of 
the  ladies,  added  zest  and  charm  to  the  scene.  The  hawk- 
ers bowed  down  almost  to  the  ground  —  nobility  was 
passing. 

"Capeheart,  did  you  notice  the  kestrels?  How  the  male 
in  his  pride,  coated  in  his  superior  colors,  and  the  female 


Glasgow  11 

in  her  sober  brown,  how  they  wind-hovered  until  the  falcons 
were  uncovered?" 

"Colmey,  I  never  knew  before  that  the  female  was  so 
much  fiercer  in  pursuit  than  the  male.  I  understand  the 
male  is  seldom  trained  for  attack  or  for  quarry.  The  boasts 
and  the  braggadocio  of  those  knaves  were  amusing  indeed, 
and  to  save  me  I  could  not  tell  which  falcon  struck  first." 

"Capeheart,  the  sport  would  have  been  finer  if  herons 
had  been  the  birds  for  the  hawkers'  competition,  but  the 
laws  are  so  severe  they  fear  a  keeper  might  come  upon 
them." 

"Colmey,  those  ladies  were  grand  and  beautiful,  and  the 
equipages  almost  dazzled  my  eyes.  Coursing  for  a  hare! 
Quite  a  different  sport  from  the  hunt  of  a  young,  lusty 
grice  or  a  full-antlered,  bounding  buck.  At  Cowdrey  Park, 
from  an  up-window,  Queen  Elizabeth  witnessed  sixteen 
bucks  pulled  down  by  full-blooded,  well-trained  grey- 
hounds of  the  county  of  Sussex.  For  hundreds  of  years 
the  owning  of  a  greyhound  was  proof  of  gentility — when 
knights  met  in  tourney — when  chivalry  was  in  full  flower — 
when  love  and  loyalty  filled  camp  and  grove." 

The  cavalcade  was  soon  lost  behind  the  trees  crowning 
the  well-kept  highway.  Returning  to  his  room  and  looking 
at  his  packed  trunks,  Colmey  felt  a  deep-seated  aversion  to 
pulling  up  and  leaving  his  classmates  forever.  He  wanted 
to  remain;  yet  when  the  hallowing  feeling  of  home  came 
uppermost  he  cheerfully  continued  to  make  ready  to  go. 

A  human  body  is  young  but  once,  and  the  warmth  of 
friendship  of  our  earlier  days  is  not  cooled  by  reason,  or 
by  suspicion.  Colmey  saw  about  him  people  of  high  cul- 
ture, he  associated  with  students  whose  family  traditions 
were  part  and  portion  of  the  kingdom's  assets.  He  knew 
he  was  to  return  where  the  very  great  mass  of  people  were 
untrained,  unschooled,  and  whose  education  only  woodland 
lore.  Here  he  hears  the  great  cathedral  chimes;  there  was 
no  church  in  North  Carolina  until  1710,  not  one!     No 


12  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

schoolhouses,  no  public  buildings  whatever  worthy  mention- 
ing. Here  was  law  and  order,  great  residences,  great 
bridges,  strong  castles.  Across  the  sea  were  magnificent 
sounds,  rolling  rivers,  trackless  forests,  and  in  them  the 
Red  Men,  full  of  love  of  slaughter  and  cruelty,  and  whose 
hatred  was  as  sleepless  as  the  stars.  It  was  a  part  of  their 
very  nature  to  be  cunning,  stealthy,  and  they  were  revenge- 
ful and  tireless;  they  were  to  be  dreaded  and  eternally 
watched.  The  young  man  had  been  taught  by  his  parents 
to  love  America  and  to  make  it  his  home;  for  the  wilderness 
would  be  reclaimed  in  due  time,  and  that  law  and  order 
would  become  the  foundations  of  a  great  nation  now  in  its 
infancy. 

"I  shall  return  to  America,  then  I  shall  meet  the  Red 
Man  face  to  face;  and  there  the  hornets  raise  their  young. 
There  are  no  hornets,  no  Indians,  in  Scotland.  I  notice  the 
highways  here  under  the  brand  of  the  'Broad  Arrow'  are 
supervised  and  constantly  kept  in  repair,  as  in  the  days  of 
the  Roman  occupancy.  I  notice  the  beech  trees  over  here 
are  much  taller  than  in  America,  more  highly  prized.  One 
can  hardly  conceive  or  accept  the  immense  importance 
these  quick-grown  rich  people  attached  to  themselves,  who 
have  the  manipulation  of  the  tobacco  trade  of  North  Caro- 
lina and  Virginia.  They  take  on  readily  the  low  parts  of 
the  upper  class.  They  assume  high  airs,  have  fine  vehicles, 
and  their  accoutrements  smell  of  the  yellow  and  black  weed 
from  far  beyond  the  trackless  sea.  To  the  poor  they  are 
offensive  and  to  the  rich  subservient." 

Trawling  of  herrings  for  pleasure  was  considered  by 
some  as  beyond  the  pale  of  the  British  laws.  Herring 
fishing  acts  were  passed  in  Britain  to  protect  this,  one  of  the 
most  valuable  assets  of  food  known  to  the  British  people. 
Smokehouses  were  numerous  in  the  "Land  of  Cakes."  In- 
fumation  had  become  a  science.  Holland  was  surpassed 
by  Scotland  in  the  magnitude  of  catch  and  cure.  The  catch- 
ers and  the  curers  were  quite  a  different  set  of  people. 


Glasgow  13 

Amsterdam  was  thought  to  be  built  on  herring  bones.  The 
herrings  are  cured  under  inspection  of  officers  of  the  law, 
and  women  find  profitable  employment  during  the  seine 
season. 

Colmey  was  of  an  inquisitive  turn  of  mind,  and  he  had 
gone  to  the  trouble  of  visiting  and  noting  the  ways  of  the 
Scots  in  this  particular,  as  he  remembered  seeing  on  the 
Chowan  great  hauls  made  of  fish  when  the  season  was  in 
full.  Colmey  studied  the  laws  and  habits  of  the  Hebrew, 
the  Greek,  and  the  Roman  people  intently.  He  knew  they 
were  the  three  greatest  people  of  all  mankind,  and  that 
David,  Pericles,  and  Caesar  stood  among  men  supreme. 
Knowing  his  destiny  was  to  be  across  the  great  sea  deeps; 
knowing  he  must  face  life  with  its  pleasures  and  perils; 
knowing  that  a  purpose,  an  object  every  man  must  have  to 
accomplish  a  high  and  noble  place  in  his  nation's  history, 
he  was  anxious  to  be  a  skilled  military  and  civil  engineer, 
and  a  man  of  prominence  in  his  community.  He  sat  in  his 
room,  thinking  that  the  world  was  out  of  harmony.  He 
had  been  away  from  home  for  years  attending  school. 
Every  day  brought  startling  news  of  change  in  the  ministry. 
Great  Britain  was  in  an  upheaval;  the  King  of  France  was 
backing  the  Stuart  family  to  assert  their  rights,  while  the 
Hanover  House  was  intrenching  itself  as  best  it  could  with 
the  English  nobility  and  the  Scotch  Argyles  and  Loudouns. 
The  Highlanders,  it  was  reported,  were  in  favor  of  the 
exiled  family  of  Stuart,  and  every  precaution  was  taken  to 
keep  down  any  friction  of  opposing  factions.  Everybody, 
from  some  unknown  cause,  was  expecting  a  great  happen- 
ing to  occur  soon. 

Capeheart  came  in,  feeling  good,  and  said:  "Colmey, 
let's  ride  over  to  Dumbarton  Castle,  the  once  citadel  of  the 
Romans,  once  capital  of  the  Vale  of  the  Clyde.  It  is  only 
about  fourteen  miles  from  here." 

"What  direction  is  it?" 


14  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"It  is  northwest.  They  say  Wallace's  two-handed  sword 
hangs  in  the  hall." 

"Order  our  horses  at  once." 

They  passed  the  rampart  and  were  allowed  to  enter  the 
old  historic  and  picturesque  castle,  situated  upon  a  rugged 
rock  several  hundred  feet  high  and  nearly  surrounded  by 
water.  Blackfaced  sheep  were  seen  feeding,  and  shaggy 
Highland  cattle  added  to  the  scene.  Several  rowboats  and 
a  three-master  were  riding  water  near  by.  An  old  Scot 
was  importuned  for  a  Scottish  song,  and  the  old  piper  piped 
and  then  sang  "Dumbarton's  drums  beat  bonnie,  0!" 

He  looked  for  a  compensation. 

"Capeheart,  out  with  your  dernier." 

"Why  did  not  Rutledge  come?" 

"Rutledge  is  with  Mr.  MacMurty." 

"Capeheart,  why  does  Rutledge  keep  so  much  with  that 
horsetrader?" 

"Rutledge  goes  to  get  the  fresh,  breezy  news  from  the 
western  Highlands — straight  news  from  the  Moot  Hill."* 

"Yes,  he  will  get  to  smelling  like  an  ostler  and  have 
notions  in  his  head  treasonable  to  the  Crown." 


*Moot  Hill  is  where  gathered  the  Scots  to  hear  discussed  vital  questions 
of  the  day  and  of  the  state. 


Ill 


THE  PRINCE  ROYAL  STABLES 

Groom:     "Hail,  royal  prince! 

I  was  a  poor  groom  of  thy  stable  king, 

When  thou  wert  King. 

O  how  it  yearned  my  heart  when  I  beheld, 

In  London's  streets  on  coronation  day 

When  Bolingbroke  rode  on  roan  Barbary, 

That  horse  that  thou  so  often  bestrode, 

That  horse  I  so  carefully  dressed." — King  Richard. 

"Mr.  Colmey,  have  you  found  a  horse  to  suit  you?  I 
have  four  very  fine  ones.  Three  are  of  standard  colors 
and  one  a  royal  roan.  They  are  all  bluebloods,  sir,  and 
each  a  shining  beauty." 

"What  is  your  price?" 

"For  either  I  will  take  ninety  pounds." 

"Your  figure  is  a  little  montant,  but  all  the  same  I  will 
look  at  them." 

"Will  you  come  this  way,  please?" 

Colmey  and  MacMurty  went  down  the  street  to  the 
"Prince  Royal,"  a  very  old  establishment  for  breeding,  rais- 
ing and  selling  horses.  It  was  a  large  stone  building  two 
stories  high,  with  cellar  and  paddock,  and  the  horse  stair- 
way was  easy  to  ascend  and  covered  with  leather  cuttings. 
In  time  gone  by  Prince  Henry  (Bluff  Hal)  had  purchased 
hunters  for  his  stud  from  this  stable,  and  the  walkway  was 
clearly  marked  out,  the  place  he  stood,  the  stalls  of  the 
horses  he  had  selected.  All  was  shown  with  pardonable 
Scottish  pride.  The  cobblestones  had  been  removed  where 
His  Grace  had  stood,  and  select  stobs,  well-balsamed,  were 
driven  down,  and  by  brass  nails  driven  in  the  wood  to 


16  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

exactly  designate  the  spot  upon  which  His  Highness  stood, 
thus  honoring  the  enclosure  by  his  royal  presence  and 
standing. 

"Now,  good  Robin,  bring  out  Gray  Friar.  See  how 
dappled  he  is,  how  deep-chested,  and  he  is  copper-bottom, 
sir,  and  pretty  enough  for  a  prince.  His  dam  is  Doncaster 
Filly,  and  he  traces  back  to  Pasha,  that  was  imported 
from  Spain  by  His  Majesty,  King  John.  The  King  had 
established  a  stud  at  Bristol  Castle  on  the  Avon  of  this 
breed,  and  he  rode  his  royal  hunts  in  Kingwood  forest  of 
this  same  strain  of  horses,  when  weary  of  London  and  his 
princely  duties,  sir." 

"Have  you  his  papers,  Mr.  MacMurty?" 

"Papers?     He  needs  no  papers,  sir." 

"This  gray  may  prove  troublesome;  he  is  somewhat 
bangle-eared.  See,  he  is  hollow  in  flank,  and  here,  Mr. 
McMurty,  see,  he  is  pinned  at  his  elbows." 

"Andy,  there!  Lead  out  Lord  Angus.  This  is  the  horse 
to  suit  one  so  dainty  as  yourself.  He  is,  you  see,  a  royal 
blue  roan,  clean-limbed,  without  a  blemish,  sir,  and  is 
purple  of  purple,  satin  finished,  clear  back  to  the  Turk." 

"Well,  for  sure  he  is  decidedly  pretty.  See,  his  left 
hind  foot  is  white  to  the  coronet,  thus  adding  beauty  to  his 
makeup  of  black  points.  But  I  notice  that  he  is  nervous; 
he  nips,  he  switches  right  much.  Mr.  McMurty,  neither 
gray  nor  roan  is  to  my  liking." 

"Stay,  please,  don't  go.  Robin,  there!  Bring  to  me 
Merlin.  Now,  by  Saint  Andrew,  here  is  a  horse  to  please; 
and,  sir,  he  is  as  black  as  a  crow's  wing." 

A  goodly-sized  coal  black  was  led  up. 

"This,  Mr.  Colmey,  is  a  bonny-eyed  lad,  tough  as  a 
wythe-rod.  He  is  direct  from  the  Darby  Arabian,  and  his 
dam  is  the  Black  Maid  of  Leith." 

"Mr.  Mac,  have  you  the  horse's  papers?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  handy  to  handle." 

"I  will  give  you  eighty  pounds  for  him." 


The  Prince  Royal  Stables  17 

"Grammercy,  no!  Such  a  sacrifice,  oh,  no!  Just  see 
his  round  hoofs,  his  short  joints,  his  broad  buttocks.  Ninety 
pounds  and  no  less.  Please,  sir,  don't  walk  away;  just 
one  moment.  Mr.  Colmey,  hear  me  for  a  moment,  sir. 
This  four-year-old  is  a  bold  fencer  and  swimmer,  as  a 
walker  he  can  easily  make  over  his  fourth  mile,  and  as  a 
racer  it  takes  the  wind  to  outspeed  him.  Mark  me,  my 
mother  is  an  Irish  biddy  if  he  fails  to  stand  head  of  his 
class." 

The  black  had  an  open,  gentle  look,  his  face  shadowed 
by  a  long,  thin  forelock.  He  stood  fully  fifteen  hands  high, 
motionless  and  observant.  There  was  but  one  white  mark- 
ing on  him,  and  that  was  between  his  eyes.  He  was  not 
gelded  and  stood  proudly  unshorn  of  his  masculine  virility. 

"Here,  Andy,  race  him  up  and  down  the  paddock.  Whoa 
there!     Now  face  him." 

Merlin's  arched  neck,  his  high-set,  thick,  wavy  tail,  his 
round  hoofs  bespoke  purple  breeding. 

"Now,  Mr.  Colmey,  did  you  notice  his  proud  step?  See 
his  straight  gambrel,  and  the  perfect  bight  of  his  knee. 
Oh,  sir!  he's  no  garron.  He's  a  dyne.  Now,  Mr.  Colmey, 
will  you?" 

"No,  I  will  not  give  ninety  pounds." 

"Well,  we  will  split  the  difference;  now  will  you,  sir?" 

14Yes,  bring  the  papers  down  to  my  merchant's,  and  I 
will  pay  you  there." 

Colmey  went  up  to  Merlin,  pushed  aside  his  wavy  mane 
and  stroked  his  long  forelock,  patted  his  glossy,  sinewy 
neck  and  passed  his  hand  over  the  bearded  muzzle.  He 
leaned  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils,  and,  starting  away, 
the  horse  whinnied  to  him.  He  turned,  put  his  arms  around 
the  black's  neck  and  said:  "Well,  Merlin,  until  death  we 
are  comrades." 

On  Colmey's  return,  Capehart  informed  him  a  servant 
had  brought  a  package  for  him  from  Mr.  MacMurty. 


18  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"I  reckon,  Colmey,  it's  wine.  It  smells  winey  to  me. 
I  will  examine  it  and  see  what  it  is.  Half-dozen  Strobogia 
wines  and  one-fourth  dozen  Ramsey's  old  rye!  Well,  ain't 
we  in  it  for  a  fact?" 

"Capehart,  it  is  all  yours,  for  you  know  I  don't  allow 
myself  any  indulgence  so  far  from  home.  I  don't  need  a 
'sean  rachie'  to  tell  the  traditions  of  that  Strobogie." 

"I'll  sample  it  for  you,  old  friend." 

Colmey  went  to  the  shipping  offices  to  make  inquiries 
as  to  dates  of  outgoing  vessels. 

"By  Saint  Margaret,  this  is  a  fatness  of  things !  Colmey 
is  a  twenty-karat  gold  piece.  I  am  tired  and  weary  and 
in  need  of  a  rest  cap,  and  here  goes." 

Colmey,  passing  down  the  street,  was  made  to  observe  on 
the  doorway  of  a  nobleman  an  "Achievement,"  as  'tis 
termed  and  written,  thus  stating  the  gentleman's  death,  his 
standing,  and  his  armorial  bearings.  If  it  happened  to  be 
a  lady  of  high  rank,  her  family  tree  and  her  husband's 
were  both  placed  conspicuously  on  this  notice  of  demise. 
The  escutcheon  at  the  gates  of  death,  and  the  banner  flying 
over  the  castle  while  living,  are  symbols  of  the  power  and 
wealth  of  the  family,  and  relatives  and  friends,  servants 
and  hirelings,  are  ready  to  uphold  and  defend  these  privi- 
leges. Birth  and  wealth  are  almost  slavishly  reverenced 
by  the  British  people.  A  legal  and  social  bar  exists  author- 
itatively between  the  high-bred  and  the  lowly-born,  and  is 
carefully  recognized  by  the  upper  class  masterfully  and 
by  the  lower  submissively. 

In  peace  these  nobles  and  gentry  are  expected  to  guide 
with  advice  and  example  the  destinies  of  the  Empire.  In 
war  they  are  looked  to  to  make  display  proper  to  uphold 
Britain's  greatness,  and  they  are  generally  leaders  in 
camp  and  in  the  fight.  Whether  on  land  or  sea,  the  nobil- 
ity is  confidently  expected  to  brave  the  worst  and  to  stand 
stoutly  and  valiantly  in  the  breach. 


The  Prince  Royal  Stables  19 

The  young  nobleman  is  taught  at  home  and  at  school 
that  he  must  stand  ready  to  uphold  the  family  honor — to 
be  ready  to  do  and  die  for  King  and  Country. 

"What  infinite  heart's  ease 
Must  kings  neglect  that  private  men  enjoy!" 

And  yet  ceremony  is  the  paved  pathway  that  leads  from 
the  jungle  to  the  walled  city,  from  the  log  cabin  to  the 
highly  polished  doors  of  the  palace — like  unto  dress  which 
differentiates  the  barbarian  from  the  man  of  civilization; 
like  unto  manners  which  bespeak  the  rustic  from  the 
diplomat. 


IV 


COLMEY'S  MUSINGS 

"O  Ceremony,  show  me  but  thy  worth! 
What  is  thy  soul  of  adoration? 
Art  thou  aught  else  but  place,  degree  and  form, 
Creating  fear  and  aive  in  other  men?" 

Having  left  orders  at  the  Royal  for  a  pair  of  horses  and 
driver  to  come  for  him  at  the  "White  Swan"  at  twelve,  to 
the  minute  a  pretty  turnout  and  iron  grays  drove  up. 
Passing  out  of  town,  sick  at  heart,  disgusted  with  life, 
Colmey  was  delighted  to  feel  the  country  breezes  fan  his 
brow,  to  gaze  upon  the  country  hillside,  to  hear  the  calls, 
the  banterings  of  the  good-hearted  country  folks  as  they 
cultivated  and  dressed  their  several  acreages.  Just  ahead 
of  him  was  the  country-seat  of  one  of  the  lords  of  Renfrew- 
shire. This  home,  deeply  embowered  amidst  green  trees 
and  shrubbery,  and  nice  driveways  leading  up  to  it,  filled 
a  space  in  Nature  to  be  greatly  admired.  Nearing  the 
great  pile  of  stone  and  mortar,  Colmey  could  see  that 
Death  the  leveler  had  visited  recently  that  lordly  home. 

"Driver,  hold  up."  The  wiry  grays  were  pulled  to  the 
left  side.  The  family  flag  was  lowered,  emblem  ever  of 
power,  pride  and  wealth.  The  building  had  an  air  of 
deep  depression,  the  door  gloomily  creped.  Servants  in 
livery  came  and  went  with  letters  and  offerings  of  condo- 
lence. Far  down  the  avenue  could  be  seen  tenantry  slowly 
coming.  They  came  to  give  inaudible  reverence  at  the 
great  gates  to  the  sacred  dead.  White  peacocks  were  seen 
sanding  themselves  and  gentle  deer  stood  at  gaze  at  the 
leafy  brooklet. 

20 


Colmey's  Musings  21 

Colmey  thought,  as  he  gazed  at  the  imposing  structure, 
that  there  in  that  lofty  mansion  are  manners  taught  and 
rigidly  observed.  There  is  where  the  upper  class,  the 
educated,  the  refined,  the  vastly  rich,  meet  in  drawing- 
rooms,  free  from  common  clowns,  free  from  the  pariah 
caste,  those  knowing  no  better  than  to  be  often  rude,  whose 
ideas  and  ideals  are  seen  and  upheld  boisterously  in  the 
hotel  lobby  and  on  the  common  green.  The  sun  was  on 
the  decline,  unprevailing  woe  had  reached  its  downward 
course. 

"These  high-mannered  folk  have  three  potential  objects 
to  live,  to  strive  for:  to  be  loyal  to  the  king;  to,  in  season 
and  out  of  season,  strengthen  their  own  caste — in  court,  in 
camp,  and  in  common,  and  to  enjoy  Britain's  wide  domain 
by  land  and  sea.  Even  the  stars  are  different  in  their 
brilliancy,  even  the  Cyclades  of  the  i^gean  Sea  has  its 
Lyra  and  Milos,  there  is  a  natural  tendency  even  among 
birds  and  fishes  to  have  distinctive  differences." 

In  Britain  hereditary  rights  and  privileges,  naval  and 
military  achievements,  the  accomplishments  of  diplomats, 
the  profound  jurists,  the  great  landed  proprietors,  the 
skilled  mechanical  geniuses,  each  and  every  one  find  in 
Britain  a  seat,  a  place  awarded  above  the  common  herd. 
A  coat-of-arms  has  ever  been  recognized  as  a  distinction 
between  prince  and  peasant,  the  family  flag  flying  over  the 
castle  is  looked  upon  by  the  loyal  tenantry  as  part  and 
parcel  of  their  county  and  themselves.  Barony  was  at  one 
time  the  highest  form  of  tenure.  Today  was  placed  the 
coat-of-arms,  the  quarterings,  the  achievements  of  the  fam- 
ily, to  be  distantly  examined  by  the  eyes  of  the  curious 
multitude  that  were  right  and  left  near  the  great  iron  gates. 

Colmey's  driver  was  American  born,  and  he  knew  in  his 
country  there  were  no  noble  magnates,  no  lords  of  manor 
and  sword  to  whom  they  paid  homage.  The  steep  and 
thorny  way  to  greatness  he  was  unacquainted  with. 


22  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Mr.  Colmey,  may  I  ask,  why  is  there  so  much  inequal- 
ity over  here  in  Britain?" 

"Stevens,  I  am  proud  to  be  an  American;  but  can  you 
tell  me  why  the  nobby  selects  her  nest  for  breeding  in  West 
India  keys?  Does  this  tedious  ceremony  impress  you 
any?" 

"Mr.  Colmey,  it  does,  and  more  so  than  I  am  willing  to 
confess." 

Clubs  and  staves.  Yes,  years  gone,  when  Britons  were 
barely  dressed  and  badly  housed,  differences  were  recog- 
nized between  the  islanders ;  and  now,  when  they  have  their 
sword  and  lance,  their  grapeshot  and  shrapnel,  they  uncon- 
sciously cling  to  their  several  grades  of  nobility. 

"I  beseech  you  pardon  me,  Mr.  Colmey,  but  it  strikes 
me  as  if  you  were  impressed  so  much  that  the  pale  flag 
of  sudden  hurt  surprise  is  plainly  seen  on  your  face.  Sir, 
it  is  no  sauciness  of  spirit  that  makes  me  plain  of  speech; 
I  thought  maybe  they  might  be  some  of  your  people. 
Pardon  me,  Mr.  Colmey,  but  sir,  do  big,  high  houses  and 
big  lands  create  big  thoughts?" 

Colmey  fell  into  deep  meditation. 

"Driver,  now  for  the  Swan."  The  trim,  neat  mares, 
with  heads  turned  for  home,  took  on  speed  quickly.  He 
mused:  "Why  fret,  why  snarl  at  measures  and  manners  of 
any  country?  A  man,  like  unto  a  country,  is  made  to  pass 
through  fire  and  water  to  be  enlightened  and  strengthened. 
It  seems  to  me  Britons  without  peerage  would  experience 
a  qualm,  a  loneliness  like  unto  a  hamlet  that  had  been 
visited  by  a  big  show  and  next  day  woke  up  to  find  the  lion, 
elephant  and  monkey  gone.  They  look  upon  the  titled 
gentry  and  their  belongings  as  a  very  fine  flower  garden  in 
a  waste  place,  as  a  high  hill  on  a  level  plain,  as  a  dulcet 
song  sweetly  heard  among  the  rougher  sounds.  And  who 
does  not  prefer  to  ride  in  a  carriage  to  a  cart?  Who  so 
dull  that  does  not  love  to  listen  to  the  deep-toned  Lenten 
bells?     If  they  prefer,  why  not  let  them  enjoy  the  scarlet 


Colmey's  Musings  23 

tanagers  as  they  sport  themselves  among  the  brown,  homely 
sparrows."  And  he  mused,  "Yes,  the  rulings  of  Jehovah 
are  past  finding  out.  The  bear  has  his  honey-bee  tree,  the 
pig  has  his  hidden  truffle.  If  great  wealth  comes  by  con- 
nivance, by  over-reaching,  by  untiring  labor,  yet  as  a  rule 
then  health  flees  apace.  For  a  fact,  it  takes  centuries  to 
grow  a  leisure  class,  with  trained  servants,  a  settled  income 
and  adjusted  economies.  After  all,  which  has  the  best  of 
it — the  Marquis  of  Beadalbane,  who  rides  one  hundred 
miles  straight  on  his  own  lands  to  the  seaside,  and  then  for 
the  Alps  to  spend  his  summer,  restless  and  dissatisfied;  or 
the  poor  bluegown  beggar,  dependent  on  the  bounty  of  the 
King,  who  steps  unheeded,  unenvied,  from  Glasgow  to 
Kew?  If  large  estates  are  inherited,  also  are  inherited 
envy  of  neighbors,  strife  for  primacy  of  place,  and  Slan- 
der's tongue  to  embitter  their  occupancy.  So,  after  all, 
life  is  short,  all  have  to  be  left  behind  at  the  grave.  The 
laborer  of  today,  if  unnoticed,  he  eats  with  a  sharp  appe- 
tite and  sleeps  restfully,  troubled  with  no  ambitious  dreams, 
being  peaceable,  simply  serviceable,  not  heroic,  he  lives 
and  dies  in  darkness.  No  one  envies  his  lowly  estate,  yet 
every  one  would  have  his  strength  of  arm,  his  peace  of 
mind.  So,  after  all,  it  is  about  even,  it  is  well,  and  may 
'Fair  hope  hinder  life's  decay.'  " 


THE  GREAT  OUTLAW  OF  THE  HIGHLANDS 

"/  wish  your  horses  swift  and  sure  of  foot. 
Farewell."  —Macbeth 

Rob  Roy  in  his  early  years  became  aware  that  there  was 
a  great,  bustling  world  towards  the  Cheviot  Hills.  He  had 
noticed  that  when  his  people  came  from  the  lowlands,  low- 
ing cattle  and  bleating  lambs  had  come  with  them,  guarded 
and  herded.  He  heard  of  the  smugglers  and  their  adven- 
tures, and  he  yearned  to  get  away,  be  anything,  do  anything, 
to  better  his  back,  his  stomach,  and  his  surroundings.  His 
old  mother  would  try  to  console  him  by  telling  of  the  good- 
ness of  Jehovah,  as  she  had  been  taught  by  the  itinerant 
preachers,  and  reminded  him  that  with  little  intelligence 
and  but  little  effort  he  could  gather  and  enjoy  the  thousands 
of  salmon  and  herrings  ready  to  be  netted,  and  the  grapes, 
the  chestnuts,  the  beehives  in  the  ash  woods,  the  beer  from 
the  sap  of  the  birch  tree  on  the  Findhorn,  and  bringing 
down  with  gun  up  in  the  mountains  the  wild  cattle;  in  the 
lowlands,  the  pheasant  and  red  grouse,  all  providentially 
provided  for  the  maintenance  of  the  poor. 

"And  you  know  the  Roman  highways  of  the  Iter  and 
their  road  through  the  valley  of  Luthen  Water  to  the  Nor- 
man Dikes  is  easy  and  safe.  And  remember,  Rob,  my 
boy,  the  command  that  came  to  blessed  Saint  Peter,  'Arise, 
slay  and  eat.' 

As  Rob  grew  in  size  he  also  grew  in  strength,  in  courage, 
in  daring;  that,  as  soldier  leader  or  cattle  thief,  he  was  a 
man  among  men,  loved  and  feared  by  some,  dreaded  by  all. 
Montrose  had  forcibly  taken  Craigstone,  but  Rob  came 

24 


The  Great  Outlaw  of  the  Highlands  25 

back  annually  and  levied  toll  upon  his  Lordship's  cattle 
and  barley.  Rob  ruled  with  a  strong  arm,  and,  toward 
women  and  the  weak,  with  a  gentle  heart  and  hand. 

If  the  Saxon  delighted  in  the  battle-ballad  of  Byrhnot's 
Fall,  the  Highlander  never  tired  of  singing  the  praises  of 
Helen  and  Rob  Roy,  and  rallying  to  their  clan  war  cry — 
"Ard  Coille!" 

"Hear  me  more  plainly. 
I  have  in  equal  balance  justly  weighed 
What  wrongs  our  arms  may  do,  what  wrongs  we  suffer, 
And  find  our  grief  heavier  than  our  offenses." 

Colmey  had  always  determined  to  visit  Rob  Roy's  once 
abode  before  returning  to  the  Colony.  His  stone  habita- 
tion up  in  the  Highlands  had  become  of  world-wide  noto- 
riety, of  never-ending  interest.  Outlaw,  cateran,  free- 
booter, he  had  made  a  name  known  far  and  wide,  and  a 
peculiar  magnetism  was  and  is  and  ever  will  be  associated 
with  his  raids  and  encounters. 

"Here,  Mr.  Colmey,  I  have  a  smart  fellow  that  knows 
every  by-path  from  here  to  Rob's  cottage.  Here,  Callie 
Craft."  A  young  Scot,  dark  and  wiry,  came,  and  Colmey 
bargained  with  him  for  his  services.  They  were  to  start 
early  for  the  Highlands.  Talking  with  Callie  the  next 
day  as  they  journeyed,  he  learned  that  he  feared  the  "Evil 
Eye,"  and  that  his  heart  was  with  "Charlie  from  over  the 
water,"  and  that  Callie  wore  constantly  a  twig  of  the  Rowan 
tree. 

The  exploits  of  Rob  Roy  had  filled  Colmey's  imagination 
so  full,  his  many  escapes  from  English  officers,  the  love  the 
mountaineers  bore  for  him,  was  such  a  fascinating  tale, 
that  Colmey  was  enthused  over  the  project  of  his  visitation. 
As  he  made  his  way  passing  to,  he  met  an  old  Scotch  beadle, 
sniffing  his  mull  out  of  his  metal  box  kept  in  his  vest  pocket, 
and  he  came  upon  some  stock  beekeepers  with  their  carts, 


26  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

coming  from  the  heatherbloom  districts  of  the  moorlands^ 
and  Highland  boys  on  the  bogs  of  the  lowlands  either  could 
not  or  would  not  speak  a  word  of  Sasse  (English).  At 
Loch  Katrine  he  met  suddenly  Banty  Nicol  Ogilvy,  a 
Highland  seer,  jerky  in  movements.  "Hear  me,  young 
man,  why  should  Capetian  shed  blood  for  Hanover  or 
Stuart?  A  Saxon  should  beware  of  the  Highlands;  re- 
member the  Lilies." 

Colmey  hurriedly  moved  along.  He  pushed  his  way  up 
in  the  hills  of  Lairie  Thiward  and  viewed  the  mountain 
scenery  so  beautiful  between  Glen  Royal  and  Ben  Nevis. 
He  recollected  how  in  the  days  gone  by  Montrose,  the 
brave-hearted,  crossed  in  snow  and  winter  these  mountains, 
like  unto  Hannibal  crossing  the  Alps.  Having  at  last 
reached  Rob's  abode,  he  was  surprised  at  its  roughness  and 
smallness. 

Rob  knew  his  lodging  place  was  liable  to  be  razed  to  the 
ground  by  his  powerful  enemies.  He  went  to  work  and, 
assisted  by  his  shrewish  mate,  Helen,  had  thatched  the  roof 
with  care,  leaving  an  opening  in  the  middle  for  the  soot 
and  smoke  to  escape.  The  doorway  was  strong  and  low- 
pitched,  and  chickens  were  found  in  the  house  as  in  the 
days  of  Helen  the  Shrew.  The  whole  interior  was  sooty 
and  the  rafters  and  rough  boards  inside  were  smoked  a 
yellowish  black.  There  were  two  recesses  in  the  walls  of 
the  house.  The  walls  were  quite  thick.  These  recesses 
were  bed  bunks,  and  a  smoked  board  or  boards  made  the 
recess  somewhat  private.  The  different  Highland  clans 
use  rafters  in  the  building  of  their  houses  or  huts  that 
differentiated  each  clan  from  the  others. 

As  Colmey  stood  around  the  pile  of  firestones  where  Rob 
and  his  wife,  Helen,  sat  for  many  a  month,  where  the  mid- 
night cattle  raids  were  secretly  planned,  or  when  a  reprisal 
was  to  be  inflicted  upon  a  hateful  rival,  and  when  it  was 
best  for  Rob  to  hide  for  a  wee  time  until  the  manhunt  was 


The  Great  Outlaw  of  the  Highlands  27 

over.  It  was  true  Helen  MacGregor  by  nature  was  to  be 
dreaded,  and  more  terrible  than  Rob  himself. 

The  little  house  was  built  behind  a  large  knoll  that  con- 
cealed it  from  the  valley-like  glen  below.  Just  across  the 
glen  stand  up  mountains  high  and  grand,  partly  heather- 
covered.  Here  the  stunted  oak  and  wide-spreading  hazel 
bushes  screened  it  from  observation.  Helen  MacGregor 
selected  the  spot  when  Rob  was  on  one  of  his  Lowland 
forays  and  cattle-stealings. 

The  daring  bravery  of  Rob  Roy  drew  to  him  the  daring 
and  adventurous,  and  his  men  fought  or  would  not  fight  as 
Rob  decided.  The  old  freebooter  or  "cateran,"  as  his  ene- 
mies called  him,  took  watchful  care  of  his  park  of  cattle 
just  a  little  below  his  small  house.  In  the  day  he  had  them 
driven  down  in  the  back  glen  and  watered  and  browsed 
until  about  duskdown,  and  then  they  were  impounded.  The 
old  outlaw's  powerful  influence  over  three  or  four  hundred 
fighting  Highlanders  made  the  great  men  fear  him,  and 
they  offered  inducements  to  him  to  take  sides  in  war  with 
them  and  settle  on  their  holdings.  The  MacGregor  arch 
was  plainly  seen.  It  is  said  by  the  Highland  peasant, 
whose  ideas  are  very  rude  as  to  habitation  and  dress,  that 
Rob  Roy  when  dying  begged  his  wife,  Helen,  to  go  away 
from  him  for  a  while  to  let  him  get  straight  with  his  God; 
that  she  had  had  him  "at  outs  with  all  men,"  and  now  in 
his  dying  hour  would  have  him  "at  outs  with  his  God." 
Helen,  poor  woman,  was  soured,  and  often  justly  so,  with 
all  the  world,  for  the  world  had  been  unmerciful  to  her 
bairns  and  her  husband  and  toward  herself.  It  made  a 
she-bear  of  her.  But  Helen  MacGregor  was  a  remark- 
able woman  for  beauty,  for  size,  for  judgment,  and  for 
faithfulness  unto  her  unfaithful  Rob  Roy.  If  she  was  a 
shrew,  she  was  also  a  devoted  mother  and  an  unstained 
wife. 

The  Duke  of  Argyle  gave  Rob  this  asylum  he  was  now 


28  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

occupying,  and  it  was  understood  by  the  Duke  and  Rob 
that  water  and  wood,  grazing  for  his  cows,  deer  from  the 
mountain,  and  salmon  from  the  brook  should  always  be 
allowed  him  and  his.  There  was  so  much  dissension,  out- 
cries and  vows,  public  and  private,  of  toasts  made  through- 
out Scotland  "to  the  king  over  the  water,"  that  King  George 
encouraged  his  friends  to  divide  the  Highlanders  as  much 
as  possible  in  their  devotion  to  the  "Pretender,"  and  seal 
them  to  the  House  of  Hanover.  King  George  feared 
Prince  Charlie. 

Colmey  left  this  rude  habitation  with  a  feeling  of  awe, 
as  the  wild  glen  in  beauty  opened  up  before  him  and  the 
dashing  cascades  went  dancing  down  into  the  valley  below. 
Except  for  the  water-noise  the  stillness  of  the  mountain 
was  painful.  One  cannot  restrain  great  admiration  for  the 
courage  and  loyalty  that  rough  Rob  Roy  displayed  in  more 
than  a  hundred  desperate  encounters.  Colmey  stopped 
outside  for  a  few  moments  to  try  to  stamp  upon  his  memory 
forever  this  place  awesome  to  him. 

There,  sitting  upon  his  haunches  near  the  door,  was  a 
good-sized  shepherd  dog,  black  on  his  back  and  his  tail, 
and  white  and  yellow  under  his  breast  and  body.  His 
name  was  Joe  Benny,  and  they  told  of  his  marvelous  canine 
intelligence.  This  breed  of  dogs  attended  Rob  Roy  in  his 
lowland  depredations.  This  dog's  ancestors  knew  the  cattle 
when  they  were  pastured  up  in  the  Highlands,  and  they 
never  failed  to  keep  together  Rob's  bunch  of  black  cattle 
to  a  heifer.  When  night  came  a  watchman  was  always 
placed  to  see  over  the  cattle,  and  he  was  directed  to  watch 
the  stars,  particularly  the  seven  stars  of  the  Dipper.  Cattle 
are  quickly  responsive  to  atmospheric  changes.  The  stars 
are  celestial  barometers.  The  watchman  was  directed  to 
notice  the  first  signs  of  "rolling"  in  the  cattle.  When  they 
commenced  getting  up  and  walking  around  Rob  was  awak- 
ened; he  at  once  seized  a  bagpipe,  called  Joe  Benny,  and 


The  Great  Outlaw  of  the  Highlands  29 

Rob  piped,  the  watchman  hallooed,  and  the  dog  ran  around 
the  cattle  and  barked.  They  soon  lay  down  and  content- 
edly munched  their  cuds. 

Colmey  stood  and  looked  at  the  mountains  as  they  arose 
before  him  in  might  and  magnificence  round  about  Rob 
Roy's  lowly  habitation.  He  looked  down  into  the  deep 
dells,  his  eyes  followed  the  flowing  streams,  and  he  won- 
dered, "Can  all  this  continue  as  it  is?"  He  felt  that  God 
and  Nature  would  continue,  but  naught  else.  He  could 
but  say  to  himself,  "Ah!  the  world,  the  times,  the  fashions, 
come  and  change,  whether  man  will  or  will  not.  For  the 
'Black  Watch'  is  forming,  English  gold  coins  are  circulat- 
ing, the  neighing  of  the  white  horse  of  Hanover  is  reverber- 
ating throughout  the  caves  and  glens  of  the  Highlands. 
.  There  is  a  touch  in  the  air  that  makes  the  kilt-clad 
wearer  feel  that  his  doom  is  near,  but  he  sees  it  not  yet, 
not  yet!"  The  silent,  seldom  frequented  paths  once  trod 
by  Rob  Roy  and  his  clan  will  be  remembered  only  in  song 
and  story,  told  as  a  tale  in  the  night  as  the  Lowlander  in 
his  castle  feels  that  his  cattle  are  now  secure  from  the  bold 
Highland  cateran. 

Shall  Rob  Roy's  deeds  be  forgotten?  Can  it  be  possi- 
ble that  mankind  will  fail  to  feel  a  hearthrob  when  the 
details  of  his  daring  adventures  are  pictured?  How  the 
Lowlander,  for  whom  Rob  had  an  antipathy,  felt  secure  in 
his  possessions  because  the  strong  arm  of  military  necessity 
had  settled  him  there,  and  Rob  felt  that  anything  England 
did  in  Scotland  was  subversion  of  Scotland's  inalienable 
rights;  and  he  plundered,  yes,  Rob  plundered,  because  he 
felt  that  he  had  the  native  right  to  plunder.  Shall  the  wild 
wail  of  Helen  MacGregor  cease  to  be  a  subject  of  mother- 
hood's solicitude;  fail  to  elicit  a  warm  current  of  feminine 
feeling,  as  she  is  recognized  striving  courageously  for  her 
offspring,  battling  with  royal  authority  for  their  freedom, 


30  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

and  dying  a  poor,  helpless  woman,  broken  hearted  over  the 
reverses  of  her  clan  and  her  country  and  her  restless,  depre- 
datory husband? 

There  is  a  law  that  governs  every  event.  Going  from 
Rob's  little  house  of  stone,  Colmey  could  but  ask  himself, 
"What  is  man,  or  the  son  of  man?  He  springeth  up  like 
a  flower  and  is  cut  down,  and  the  place  that  knew  him  once 
shall  know  him  no  more  forever.  How  few  reach  the 
full  maturity  and  majesty  of  manhood!  Man  is  thrown 
out  upon  the  shores  of  a  sinsick  world  without  a  tangible 
rudder  or  compass.  He  is  to  beat  or  creep  his  way  as  best 
he  can  through  a  labyrinth  of  trials.  Often  his  direction 
is  a  conscience  blurred  at  nativity.  He  is  expected  to  meet 
and  cope  with  unknown  and  unsounded  surroundings.  No 
material  lighthouse  to  guide  his  bark;  nobody  to  warn  him 
of  danger,  seen  and  unseen!  How  often  the  heart  cries 
for  seasonable  help,  how  often  his  trembling  body  in  the 
nighttime  begs  for  a  discontinuance  of  his  sufferings!  But 
no,  the  destiny  of  a  race  is  upon  him.  He  resists,  he  prays, 
he  dies!  His  shortcomings  are  at  last  forgiven,  and  shortly 
he,  too,  is  forgotten."  "After  life's  fitful  fever,  he  sleeps 
well." 

Wherever  the  English  tongue  is  spoken  Rob  Roy's  fame 
is  and  will  be  perennial.  Near  the  old  house  is  Rob's 
grave,  simple,  yet  famous.  His  fretful  yet  devoted  Helen 
sleeps  by  him.  The  scenery  is  grave  in  grandeur  round 
about  these  lowly  grave  spots. 

Colmey  lifted  his  hat  to  their  memory  and  retraced  his 
steps  by  the  pass.  Reaching  the  pass  of  Drumchoter,  the 
gillie's  face  was  lighted  up  with  hate  and  wished-for  ven- 
geance. "Here,  Mr.  Colmey,  is  where  they  fought,  the 
Highlanders  and  the  hated  Saxons." 

"Why  was  it,  Callie?" 

"Oh,  sir!  They  robbed  us  of  our  lands  and  our  people 
took  back  some  by  taking  their  chattels — all  belongs  to 
Scotland." 


The  Great  Outlaw  of  the  Highlands  31 

The  pass  strikes  one  with  its  beauty  and  its  wildness. 
Lofty  eminences  answer  the  soul  of  the  glens  and  the  val- 
leys seem  to  ardently  respond  with  exclamations  of  glad- 
ness and  admiration. 

"By  Saint  Kattan,  here,  sir,  my  people  held  the  English 
and  the  Saxon  back,  and  many  lay  unburied  for  aye." 

"I  suppose,  Callie,  they  held  the  pass  and  drove  away 
their  pursuers?" 

"Nay!  We  went  back  that  night,  but  the  next  day  they 
were  gone." 

Drumchoter  Pass  lies  within  the  confines  of  Inverness 
and  Perthshire.  The  sunlight  coming  from  the  left,  struck 
down  in  the  valley,  and  there  was  a  bright  speck  reflected. 
"What  is  it?"  came  into  Colmey's  mind.  He  dismounted 
and,  creeping  along,  pulled  on  the  silver  ring,  and  a  sword 
and  scabbard  and  a  steel  webbed  belt  came  from  under  the 
rubbish,  and  the  skeleton  of  a  man  lay  there.  Colmey  was 
saddened,  yet  supremely  delighted.  He  exclaimed,  "Here 
years  ago  fell  a  gallant  knight!"  Pulling  the  sword  from 
its  case,  there  engraved  upon  it  were  the  words  "De  Erlon." 
The  gillie's  eyes  flashed  fire;  he  coveted  the  prize,  for  in 
the  hilt  was  imbedded  a  large  topaz.  Callie  knew  that 
sword  had  been  drawn  against  his  people.  Colmey  gave 
the  gillie  a  guinea  and  thanked  him  for  noticing  Merlin, 
but  Callie  Craft  was  no  longer  his  friend.  They  passed 
downward  and  onward  to  the  great  glen.  Colmey  prized 
the  sword,  and  he  felt  if  ever  in  the  future  it  was  needed  it 
would  prove  true. 

Mr.  MacMurty  had  privately  told  Colmey  that  Callie 
would  be  all  right  going,  but  sulky  coming  back.  It  is 
true  the  Highlander  is  loath  to  leave  his  glens  and  his 
peaks;  he  gets  the  homesickness  in  him  as  he  plods  back 
to  the  Lowlands.  Colmey  watched  sidewise  his  guide  and 
saw  he  gradually  became  morose  and  dispirited  as  they 
entered  Perthshire.  The  Highlander,  being  a  Pict,  intui- 
tively disliked  and  distrusted  a  Saxon.     There  had  been  a 


32  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

heavy  rainfall  and  the  streams  were  up.  Coming  to  a  wide 
valley  space,  they  found  that  the  rivulet  had  become  a  river. 
The  streams  in  Scotland  flow  more  rapidly  than  they  do  in 
England  or  Wales.  Driftwood,  eddies  and  foam  were  to 
be  seen,  making  the  current  more  to  be  dreaded.  Remem- 
bering Mr.  MacMurty's  boast  on  Merlin,  that  he  feared 
neither  targe,  tarn  nor  torrent,  that  come  what  would  he 
could  depend  on  his  noble  horse,  he  secured  his  sword  and 
holsters  and  other  appendages  and  rode  up  to  the  stream. 
Callie  lagged  behind.  Four  Highlanders  and  two  women, 
bareheaded,  were  there  waiting  for  it  to  become  fordable. 
Each  Highlander  had  on  a  Glengarry  bonnet.  Colmey 
noticed  that  the  four  at  the  stream  and  Callie  were  in  close 
converse,  and  he  felt  that  something  awry  was  meant  to- 
ward himself. 

The  stream  was  wide  and  the  flood  foaming  and  rapid. 
An  old  woman  came  near  him  and  said,  "Saxon  laddie, 
unless  you  want  to  sleep  under  the  latha  toun  fravich 
(under  the  heather  bush),  make  for  the  other  side.  Gees 
ort!  gees  ort!" 

"Thank  you,  good-  mother."  Colmey  gave  Merlin  the 
word  and,  when  breasting  the  flood,  the  four  Highlanders 
came  running  and  calling  to  him,  "Ride  out,  the  stream 
will  drown  ye!"  Callie  Craft  remained  behind.  Merlin 
boldly  entered  the  current,  swimming  high  and  as  easily 
as  a  Newfoundland  dog  to  the  opposite  shore.  Colmey 
thanked  his  stars  he  was  out  of  danger's  zone.  Occurrences 
of  robbing  and  murder  were  of  common  report  beyond  the 
Glen-Mere,  and  forts  and  military  roads  had  become  a 
necessity  and  were  being  built  by  the  Government. 

Meeting  a  gentleman  from  Lanark,  he  was  informed 
"that  by  the  great  road  Glasgow  is  about  thirty  miles 
away."  It  was  three  hours  before  sunset.  Colmey  knew 
Merlin  would  land  him  before  dark.  Riding  up  to  the 
"Prince  Royal"  about  deep  dusk,  he  met  Mr.  MacMurty, 
who  at  once  asked  for  Callie.     "A  roughish  Cromartie 


The  Great  Outlaw  of  the  Highlands  33 

gillie  and  will  cavil  over  a  penny.     He's  a  half-blooded 

MacGregor  of  the  baser  sort.     Well,  how  did  the  bonnie 

beast?" 

"Mr.  MacMurty,  the  very  best  that  was  ever  foaled." 

"Here,  Andy,  you  and  Robin  rub  him  down." 

Colmey  went  to  each  and  slipped  a  half-crown  in  their 

hands.     He  then  sought  for  his  tavern  and  his  thoughts 

were  ranging  across  the  deep  blue  sea. 


VI 


THE  SO-CALLED  PRETENDER,  CHARLES  EDWARD 

"O  for  a  Muse  of  fire  that  would  ascend 
The  highest  Heaven  of  Invention; 
A  kingdom  for  a  stage,  princes  to  act." 

— King  Henry  V. 

In  the  Prince  Charles  Edward,  Nature  stood  on  the  verge- 
land  of  perfect  manhood.  He  would  have  been  reckoned 
a  base-spirited  fellow  to  have  refused  the  invitation  to  come 
and  make  issue  to  recover  the  throne  of  his  fathers,  to 
retrieve  the  fallen  fortunes  of  the  House  of  Stuart.  His 
griefs  were  great:  his  father  beheaded,  his  family  exiled. 
It  must  have  been  at  first  a  species  of  intense  exaltation 
when  his  ship  was  in  full  sail  and  all  eyes  aboard  looking 
toward  Scotland;  but  when,  on  the  boisterous  seas,  nearing 
the  summit  of  his  venture,  his  very  soul  must  have  been 
greatly  troubled.  To  regain  a  kingdom  is  no  little  effort 
to  make;  for  in  its  weighty  space  are  hills  and  quagmires, 
dangerous  to  climb  and  treacherous  to  pass  over.  He  im- 
plicitly pinned  his  faith  to  the  western  Highlands  and 
ardently  hoped  to  make  friends  below  the  Grampians.  He 
knew  he  must  get  strength  beside  that  which  would  be  given 
him  so  loyally  by  the  rugged,  reckless  sons  of  the  philibeg 
and  plaid.  And  who  in  friendly  conference  must  he  take? 
Will  the  officers  be  fullfaced  at  the  appointed  time?  And 
did  God  intend  to  smile  upon  his  dangerous  appeal  to 
arms?  He  remembered  anxiously  Boisdale's  advice  on 
the  Dontelle,  and  then  regained  his  good  humor  by  recall- 
ing the  following  of  his  ship  to  Moidart  by  a  large  eagle. 

After  Colmey's  return  from  visiting  Rob  Roy's  cave,  he 

34 


So-called  Pretender,  Charles  Edward  35 

rode  over  Ben  Lawers,  he  visited  Edinburgh,  where  Mont- 
rose and  Argyle  were  hanged.  He  rode  down  from  Stirling 
and  once  more  viewed  Bannockburn.  His  father's  failing 
health  and  everybody  expecting  the  coming  of  the  Prince 
from  beyond  the  sea!  He  wished  he  was  out  of  it  and 
back  home,  sitting  by  the  side  of  his  beloved  parent.  Being 
young,  the  spirit  of  adventure  was  rife  and  ripe  within  him. 
There  was  a  romance  about  the  coming  of  the  Prince  that 
excited  the  warm  imagination  of  Colmey.  The  young 
respect  the  old,  but  they  hold  with  their  age ;  their  youthful 
enthusiasm  makes  them  avoid  the  sedate. 

It  went  with  the  Scotch  that  Prince  Charlie  would  not  eat 
wheat  nor  drink  brandy  because  that  was  English;  but 
barley  brew,  Scotch  rye  and  oatmeal,  a  plaid,  a  tartan  and 
a  sporan,  he  drank  and  ate  and  wore  with  grace  royal 
before  the  kings  and  principalities  of  Europe  Scotland's 
charactery.  It  appealed  to  Scotland.  The  word  went  forth 
from  Saint  Hilda  to  the  Mull,  "Give  us  for  our  King  a 
Scotchman." 

"Colmey,  did  you  know  that  the  Prince  had  landed  at 
Moidart  with  only  seven  attendants,  and  that  now  Scotland 
crowns  him  King?  Think  of  it — from  Caithness  to  Perth 
he  is  proclaimed  Scotland's  rightful  ruler!" 

"Stay!  Rutledge,  stay!  It  is  but  a  loss  of  time  and 
breath.  If  I  were  not  a  cripple  as  you  see,  I  would  join 
you  in  striking  one  stroke  for  good  old  Scotia.  Just  one 
word  more,  damn  the  greedy  English!" 

"You  are  right,  Capehart;  Colmey  is  too  tame.  He 
counts  the  cost  of  every  enterprise.  Thank  God!  the 
Prince  now  bears  royal  sway." 

"You  crazy  loons!  In  Christ's  name,  what  have  we  to 
do  with  this  outburst  of  Highland  violence?  Is  not  the 
House  of  Hanover  in  power?  Is  the  King  dead?  Cape- 
hart,  you  are  swayed  from  your  better  judgment  by  the 
would-be  rashness  of  Rutledge.  I  candidly  think  England 
and  Scotland  should  be  united;  it  is  best.     We  are  Ameri- 


36  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

cans,  and  I  say  in  soberness,  hands  off.  I  tell  you  Scot- 
land is  not  ready,  not  prepared  to  fight;  it  is  a  waste  of  men 
most  inexcusably." 

"Capehart,  no  specious  reasoning  can  reach  his  fast- 
closed  ears.  Shall  Scotland  bleed,  kneel  supinely  to 
usurpatory  England?  I  tell  you,  Colmey,  there  are  forty 
thousand  Scotchmen  that  will  the  English  isle  defy." 

Colmey  arose  and  walked  out  and  down  to  the  great 
wharf,  and  watched  the  hurrying  to  and  fro  of  the  coming 
and  going  crowds;  some  their  faces  wreathed  in  smiles,  and 
other  brows  anxious  and  contracted.  The  tide  of  youth 
was  running  high  in  Colmey;  the  desire  for  an  exploitage 
of  his  courage  and  the  strength  of  his  young  manhood  was 
clamoring  within.  He  felt  the  utter  folly  of  going  up,  with 
sackbuts  and  broadswords  against  the  death  guns  that 
could  be  made  at  home  and  of  European  making.  He 
knew  the  Bank  of  England  was  strong  everywhere — strong; 
and  that  English  ships  were  bringing  the  sinews  of  war 
back  home,  bars  of  gold  and  silver  from  every  known 
people  under  the  sun. 

He  knew  that  temporary  successes  might  be  attained,  but 
England  was  made  of  a  material  so  dense,  so  ironlike,  that 
resistance  to  her  sovereignty  only  whetted  her  temper,  in- 
creased her  determination  to  overcome  all  obstacles;  or  that 
years  of  blood  and  carnage  would  follow.  He  saw  there 
was  to  be  a  fight  and  soon;  that  his  dearest  associates  were 
intensely  enlisted  in  the  cause,  that  enthusiasm  was  a  divine 
exhileration ;  but  he  faced  the  fact  that  system,  tenacity, 
ready  money  and  princely  rewards  all  combined  would 
surely  end  in  mastery.  The  Scotch  cried  out  against  the 
"London  Rogues,"  and  the  English  sneered  back  at  "You 
Red-shanked  Caterans."  With  a  sigh,  Colmey  acquainted 
Capehart  with  his  decision  that  he  would  be  ready  to  go  by 
early  twilight. 

"Prince  Charlie  from  over  the  sea"  was  tall,  strikingly 
handsome,  and  dearly  beloved  by  the  Highlanders.     He 


So-called  Pretender,  Charles  Edward  37 

was  of  great  strength,  and  in  all  the  games  of  racing,  box- 
ing, lifting  and  wrestling  he  was  without  a  superior;  his 
manners  persuasive  and  tolerant  of  discourtesy;  his  face 
fair,  his  hair  dark  and  wavy,  but  his  chin  was  small  and 
pointed;  his  lower  jaw  was  weak,  indecisive.  With  a  mild 
eye,  a  musical  voice,  and  kind  hearted,  could  he  contend 
successfully  with  the  bulldog  fighter — the  Duke  of  Cum- 
berland— Prince  William? 

The  Duke  of  Cumberland  was  a  born  soldier;  not  a 
genius,  but  he  was  a  fighter  and  of  large  experience.  He 
ruled  and  directed  through  fear.  His  troops  knew  he 
would  hang  and  quarter  them  with  no  qualms  of  conscience. 
He  realized  his  opponent  was  a  prince  of  the  royal  house 
of  Stuart,  the  legitimate  heir  to  the  throne.  To  fail  was 
the  downfall  of  his  father's  house,  his  banishment. 

Through  land-spies,  bribed  with  English  gold,  the  Duke 
was  informed  of  the  Prince's  night  march,  the  wrangling 
of  the  clans,  and  their  famished  condition.  He  determined 
to  push  forward  and  fight.  The  English  feared  and  obeyed, 
and  they  fight  best  under  the  royal  eye  and  the  sound  of  the 
royal  voice.  He  had  been  assured  that  the  McDonalds 
were  in  open  revolt. 

"Capehart,  I  fear  that  this  affair  is  to  be  a  Carchus  and 
Proxenus,  a  la  passage  at  arms.  The  capable,  the  stern, 
pitted  against  the  capable  and  the  over  kindhearted.  There 
can  be  but  one  result:  the  iron  wheel  crushes  the  pearl. 
Capehart,  war  demands  success;  the  crushing  of  the  adver- 
sary. At  heart,  when  maddened,  men  are  but  animals, 
bent  on  blood  and  death.  Who  delights  in  the  recital  of  a 
pork  or  a  mule  dealer's  transactions?  No,  but  Caesar, 
Eumenus,  claims  our  applause,  our  heart's  interest." 


VII 

THE  ENGLISH  AND  SCOTCH  ARMIES 
"Mars  hovers  over  them  with  his  dusky  shield." — Iliad. 

Capehart  was  on  crutches,  Rutledge  was  with  MacMurty. 
Rutledge  came  in  and  said,  "I  tell  you,  Colmey,  the  Prince 
is  come,  and  Scotland  is  ablaze  and  the  Highlands  on  fire." 

"Well,  Rutledge,  the  times  are  contentious,  and  men 
seem  to  have  gone  mad,  but  what  have  we  to  do  with  it? 
We  are  Americans." 

Rutledge  left  the  room  abruptly  and  went  back  to  talk 
with  MacMurty,  that  Capehart  could  not  go  and  Colmey 
wouldn't.  "Mr.  Mac,  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  strike  a 
blow  for  Scotland,  union  or  no  union." 

The  Lowlanders  were  loyal,  and  wanted  to  observe  the 
union  between  England  and  Scotland,  for  many  of  their 
ancestors  fought  at  Hastings  with  William  of  Normandy 
and  had  been  granted  large  holdings. 

Rutledge  came  back  excited.  "Colmey,  Scotland  had 
not  approved  of  nor  consented  to  that  farce.  Only  a  few 
of  the  leaders,  and  they  were  well  paid  for  arranging  and 
consenting  and  forcing  this  union  on  Scotland." 

"Well,  Rutledge,  don't  you  know  this  will  fill  Scotland 
with  trouble,  with  war  and  bloodshed?  England  is  pre- 
pared and  poor  Scotland  will  be  doomed,  and  the  Prince 
will  become  a  Hermit  Crab." 

"Bosh!     To  the  devil  with  so  much  caution!" 

The  three  young  Americans  were  sitting  in  Colmey's 
room.  They  were  strong  limbed  and  warm  hearted;  Cape- 
hart the  oldest,  and  Colmey  the  youngest.  Capehart  had 
suffered  a  very  severe  ankle  strain  and  was  confined  to  the 
house. 

38 


The  English  and  Scotch  Armies  39 

The  Duke  of  Cumberland,  the  son  of  King  George,  had 
concentrated  his  forces  in  Aberdeenshire,  and  the  River 
Spey  was  considered  the  danger  line  between  the  opposing 
armies.  Lord  Murray,  commanding  the  Scottish  army, 
lay  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  and  scouting  and  pick- 
eting was  now  regularly  practiced  by  both  the  English  and 
the  Scotch.    England  had  system,  Scotland  had  enthusiasm. 

Rutledge  came  in  from  the  streets  and  announced,  "Col- 
mey, the  Scots  are  retreating  before  the  English,  and  every- 
body is  condemning  the  Duke  of  Perth  for  not  disputing 
their  passage  across  the  river.  Lord  Murray  is  reported 
at  the  River  Nairn.  I  understand  war  means  fight,  not 
retreat." 

"Well,  I  hear  the  River  Spey  is  very  low,  Rutledge,  for 
this  season  of  the  year,  and  is  easily  fordable  at  several 
places.  His  army  being  so  much  smaller,  I  reckon  he 
thought  it  wise  to  fall  back  behind  the  Findhorn  or  the 
Nairn." 

Wild  rumors  filled  the  land.  English  barbarities  were 
daily  reported  and  magnified.  The  young  of  both  sexes 
were  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement.  England  had  again 
invaded  Scotland.  The  Prince  was  passing  his  time  in 
apparent  ease  at  Inverness,  making  himself  popular  with 
the  Highlanders  by  wearing  a  tartan  and  plaid,  and  anx- 
iously waiting  for  reinforcements  to  come  to  his  help  from 
Rosshire,  Cromartie,  the  McLeods,  and  other  clans. 

When  the  Prince  heard  of  the  retreat  of  his  forces  on 
the  12th,  he  hurried  on  the  14th  to  meet  and  encourage 
them  by  promising  to  lead  them  soon  to  battle  and  to  vic- 
tory. Lord  Murray  claimed  inferiority  of  forces,  .  .  . 
that  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  greatly  outnumbered  him 
with  old  trained  troops,  .  .  .  and  that  the  River  Spey 
was  running  very  low.  The  "trained  bands"  and  "Lorn 
Guards"  of  Glasgow  were  called  out,  sentinels  placed  at 
the  River  Clyde,  at  Tronsgate  and  other  important  entrances 


40  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

of  the  city,  to  keep  the  authorities  well  advised,  as  Glasgow 
was  loyal  to  the  reigning  family. 

Rutledge  was  in  daily  conversation  with  MacMurty. 
MacMurty  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  the  Stuart  family,  and 
Rutledge  was  led  away  with  his  recitals  of  the  wrongs  done 
to  dear  old  "Rooky,"  land  of  brown  heath  and  shaggy 
wood.  MacMurty  was  superstitious  and  intensely  loyal  to 
his  clan.  He  believed  that  Jehovah  had  divinely  called 
Prince  Charlie  to  come  over  and  make  Scotland  free  again. 

On  April  12th  the  English  army  was  marching  north- 
ward; Inverness,  the  capital  of  the  Highlands,  was  their 
destination.  The  Duke  of  Cumberland  used  every  pre- 
caution to  keep  his  army  from  surprise,  and  he  allowed 
bread,  cheese,  beef  and  brandy  to  his  troops  daily.  The 
Highland  army  was  destitute  of  even  common  food.  Eng- 
land took  care  to  feed  well,  arm  well,  and  fight  well. 
Scotland  was  all  burning  for  the  conflict,  with  enthusiasm, 
but  no  food  to  sustain  her  army. 

Rutledge  had  bought  of  MacMurty  his  roan  horse,  and 
had  entered  into  alliance  with  the  hot  Scot  to  secretly  reach 
the  Highland  army.  Capehart  fired  away  at  England  for 
being  so  overbearing,  and  at  last  Colmey  consented  to  join 
Rutledge  and  MacMurty  and  hasten  at  nightfall  for  Inver- 
ness. On  the  night  of  the  12th  the  three  secretly  departed. 
MacMurty  knew  every  road  leading  to  the  western  High- 
lands. On  the  evening  of  the  13th  the  drums  could  be 
heard  by  them  and  night  found  them  at  Inverness.  The 
Highland  army  came  up  from  the  Nairn  to  Culloden,  biv- 
ouacked among  the  sloping  hills.  The  Prince,  young, 
impatient,  was  sanguine  of  success.  He  thought  of  Preston- 
pans,  of  Falkirk,  of  Bannockburn.  He  would  not  listen  to 
words  of  wisdom.  He  thought  he  saw  empty  the  King's 
chair.  Murray  begged  to  retreat  into  Rosshire  and  wait 
for  Cromartie;  that  "the  army  was  too  tired,  too  hungry, 
and  too  sleepy  to  fight  well."  But  no,  His  Majesty  meant 
to  fight,  no  more  retreating.     Drummossie  Moor,  as  ad- 


The  English  and  Scotch  Armies  41 

vised  by  O'Sullivan,  was  selected  for  the  battle  ground 
for  an  empire.  The  beat  of  drums,  the  piping  of  the 
bagpipes  could  not  drown  thoughts  in  Colmey  of  his  fa- 
ther's disapprobation  of  his  course.  His  people  were  all 
loyal  to  the  House  of  Hanover.  But  he  was  young,  full  of 
courage,  full  of  hope,  and  he  wanted  to  strike  a  blow  for 
dear  old  Scotland. 

He  had  time  to  study  the  Prince,  and  thought  he  was 
grand,  handsome  and  brave,  but  he  feared  he  was  no 
leader  to  meet  the  stern  Duke  of  Cumberland.  The  day 
before,  they  stopped  over  at  Lochabar,  and  MacMurty 
looked  after  the  horses.  Colmey  and  Rutledge  had  been 
attracted  by  an  unusually  sweet  voice  singing  "Farewell  to 
Lochabar,"  and  Colmey  respectfully  begged  the  Scotch  lass 
to  sing  over  the  sweet  refrain.  Sauntering  down  the  nar- 
row street,  they  entered  a  small,  well-kept  shop,  and  Rut- 
ledge  asked  for  a  plaid.  The  keen-eyed,  reddish-haired 
Scot  informed  them  that  he  only  had  three  kinds  now  on 
hand,  "MacGregor,  MacLeod,  and  Frazier."  The  Mac- 
Gregor  is  a  very  attractive  tartan,  black  and  red,  streaks  of 
white  and  dark  shadings;  the  red  Frazier,  a  popular  pat- 
tern, was  very  interesting,  but  when  the  shopman  showed 
the  MacLeod  brown,  dark  brown,  red-striped  and  a  golden 
yellow  background,  Rutledge  took  a  MacLeod  and  paid 
four  pounds  for  it,  a  wrap  included. 

"Colmey,  which?" 

"Neither,  I  want  a  Stuart." 

The  Scot  saw  that  Colmey  was  not  suited ;  he  asked  him 
to  "please  step  this  way."  In  a  neat  room  he  discovered 
to  Colmey  a  "Chisolm"  and  a  "Ferguson." 

"Your  price?" 

"Either,  seven  pounds,  sir." 

Both  were  beautiful.  The  "Ferguson"  was  what  pleased 
him. 

"Young  gentleman,  I  see  that  you  prefer  this  one;  it  is 


42  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

the  better,  it  is  two  pounds  heavier  and  two  inches  longer. 
This  lining  is  an  Italian  waterproof  green,  this  plaid  is 
reversible." 

The  "Ferguson,"  with  boar-head  shield  and  Lock  Voil 
to  remember,  took  his  fancy.  "It  is  a  wonderful  combi- 
nation of  fast  colors,  of  black,  brown,  red,  green,  and  faint 
white  markings."  He  put  it  on  the  scales  and  measured 
it  with  tape  to  be  certain.  He  bought  it  for  six  pounds, 
and  also  a  soft,  flexible  leather  cover. 

"Colmey,  my  tawny  plaid  beats  your  reversible  one." 

"Well,  I  am  satisfied  with  my  green." 

The  song  of  "Farewell  to  Lochabar"  sank  deep  down 
into  Colmey's  heart. 

Out  of  an  abundance  of  caution,  MacMurty  made  bar- 
gains for  some  oatmeal  cakes  and  kippered  herrings  and 
two  gallons  for  each  horse  of  mixed  barley  and  oats  to 
carry  along  to  Inverness. 

The  Duke  of  Cumberland  had  issued  severe  manifestoes 
against  any  and  all  rebellious  subjects,  that  hanging  and 
beheading  would  be  meted  out  to  any  and  all  rebel  leaders 
without  quarter,  and  if  a  man  left  his  ranks  without  per- 
mission he  should  be  shot  on  the  spot.  A  price  was  laid 
upon  the  Prince's  (or  Pretender's,  as  he  was  called)  head, 
and  great  rewards  promised  for  his  apprehension.  The 
English  army  was  a  machine,  invincible  and  unterrified. 
The  army  had  confidence  in  the  Duke,  the  Duke  was  proud 
of  the  army. 


VIII 


THE  BATTLE  OF  CULLODEN 

"Whereby  I  see  that  Time's  the  King  of  Men, 
He  is  both  their  parent,  and  he  is  their  grave, 
And  gives  them  what  he  will,  not  what  they  crave." 

Culloden  was  not  the  largest  and  bloodiest  of  battles, 
but  it  was  a  decisive  one.  Prince  Charles  Edward  was  the 
idol  of  the  Scotch  Highlanders,  and  in  his  combat  with 
Lord  Cope  and  others  he  won,  driving  the  English  rather 
ingloriously.  But  at  Culloden  it  was  Prince  against  Prince. 
Both  armies  knew  that  royal  commanders  were  on  the  field, 
and  expected  of  them  courage  and  endurance,  and  that 
victory  now  was  all  important;  in  fact,  if  Prince  Charlie 
won,  then  down  went  Prince  William! 

For  miles  men  could  be  seen  getting  ready  for  the  fight, 
and  willingly.  The  English  came  on  slowly  but  steadily. 
They  seemed  to  treat  the  Scotch  with  contempt,  as  they  had 
their  Prince,  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  and  his  veterans  of 
Flanders  with  them. 

Prince  Charlie  cheered  his  men  as  he  rode  along  with 
them. 

The  Prince  of  Stuart  was  laughingly  called  the  "Pre- 
tender," and  his  men  "shepherd  boys."  Ridicule  is  pow- 
erful when  well  handled.  The  constant  retreating  of  the 
Scots  very  greatly  disconcerted  them.  They  were  impul- 
sive and  anxious  to  fight.  The  English,  more  quiet,  were 
enthused  at  their  easy  march  and  no  resistance,  and  that 
the  enemy  would  not  stand  and  give  battle.  The  English 
cried  aloud  that  "the  caterans  fear  to  meet  Englishmen." 

The  night  march  was  on. 

43 


44  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Lord  Murray  was  jealous  and  hated  the  Irish  officer 
O'Sullivan,  and  O'Sullivan  openly  treated  him  with  dis- 
courtesy. The  Prince  upheld  O'Sullivan.  The  march  was 
carried  on  with  spirit  and  animation  by  Lord  Elcho's  Horse 
Guards,  and  Lord  Murray  was  confident  of  surprising  the 
enemy's  camps;  but  the  rear  kept  hanging  back.  The 
Prince  and  O'Sullivan  seemed  to  think  they  had  plenty  of 
time  to  catch  up. 

A  night  attack  must  be  well  planned,  secretly  carried 
out,  and  the  troops  must  become  elated  with  the  hope  of 
successful  achievement.  Afterwards  they  are  willing  to 
follow  their  particular  officer,  believing  they  will  be  vic- 
torious; but  with  a  miscarriage  of  all  the  well-laid  plans, 
the  men  will  then  lose  all  confidence  and  become  mutinous. 
Troops  love  a  hard  fighter,  but  he  must  be  successful. 

The  English  had  absolute  confidence  in  the  Duke  (Prince 
William)  and  obeyed  his  orders  promptly. 

Colmey  and  Rutledge  felt  that  something  was  wrong  with 
the  rear.  Lord  Murray  sat  his  horse  in  silence.  In  the 
distance  there  was  a  great  light  shining  up  in  the  heavens. 
The  column  had  again  halted  for  the  rear  to  come  up.  The 
men  commenced  grumbling,  it  was  getting  toward  day. 
Many  lay  down,  worn  out.  The  mountain  air  was  sharp 
and  biting,  rain  was  threatening. 

"Lord  Murray,  the  English  are  awake  and  waiting 
for  us."    , 

"Yes,  Elcho,  and  I  am  going  to  order  a  retreat." 

Where  was  the  Prince?  Where  was  the  Duke  of  Perth? 
The  army  fell  back  and  by  daylight  they  were  again  at 
Culloden. 

"Colmey,  I  am  cold  to  my  very  marrow  and  hungry  to 
kill.     My  appetite  bites  like  a  tampan." 

"Well,  we  are  back  from  the  wildgoose  chase.  Now, 
Rutledge,  if  the  great  Jehovah  would  providentially,  as  of 
old,  send  down  food  for  us  all,  how  thankful  I  should  be." 

"Now,  here,  Colmey,  no  more  of  that.     Damn  me,  if  I 


The  Battle  of  Culloden  45 

believe  in  Hebrew  or  Egyptian  traditions.  We  are  not  in 
Palestine.     Do  you  believe  that  manna  and  quail  story?" 

"Yes,  I  do." 

"Colmey,  I  tell  you,  my  friend,  I  reckon  all  men  at  times 
cry  out  to  the  Eternal,  but  He  answereth  not.  They  get  no 
touch  of  divinity.  How  about  John  the  Baptist  and  the 
locusts?     Do  you  believe  such  stuif  as  that,  Colmey?" 

"Rutledge,  I  warn  you,  beware  of  sacrilege." 

"You  are  truly  welcome  to  your  belief,  Colmey.  And  I 
say  unto  you,  I  had  rather  trust  to  the  old  overseer  on  my 
father's  farm  near  Charleston,  for  a  good  dinner  of  beef 
and  pig,  than  to  expect  my  stomach  to  be  filled  by  reading 
the  finespun  stories  of  the  Bible." 

"Look  out  there!  there  comes  the  Prince!"  At  the  men- 
tion of  father  and  home  Colmey  became  serious  and  sad. 
A  great  cry  and  a  loud  cry  for  bread  went  up  as  His  High- 
ness rode  by.  The  order  to  "break  ranks,"  "feed  up,"  was 
as  sweet  music  to  the  ears  of  the  tired  and  hungry  troopers. 
Rutledge  set  to  work  and,  by  advancing  ready  coin,  he 
procured  food  for  their  horses  and  for  themselves.  Over 
a  mile  northward  men  were  lying  down  here  and  there, 
worn  out.  The  commissariat  was  a  flat  failure.  The 
Prince  had  given  orders  for  rations  to  be  ready,  but  there 
were  none.     His  royal  bodyguards  were  without  supplies. 

Colmey  unrolled  his  "Ferguson"  and  wrapping  it  around 
him  lay  down  to  sleep,  not  far  from  his  black  stallion,  rain 
or  no  rain.  Rutledge  went  to  look  for  a  liver-warmer. 
Finding  a  secreted  anker,  he  took  a  most  generous  swill 
of  the  smoky-tasting  but  blood-warming  Glenlivet.  Buying 
a  quart  to  tie  to  his  pommel,  he  found  some  beef  sausage 
and  a  cheese,  which  he  bought  for  supper  and  for  tomorrow. 

The  Prince  Charles  Edward  could  be  seen  discussing 
with  his  superior  officers  the  expediency  of  retreat  or  to 
stand  and  fight.  Lord  Murray,  capable  and  brave,  advo- 
cated an  immediate  retreat — "that  the  men  are  in  no  con- 


46  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

dition  to  fight,  Cromartie  has  not  come  up,  and  falling  back 
is  our  best  expedient."  The  Prince  said  he  thought  it  best 
to  "take  position  and  leave  to  the  arbitrament  of  the  sword 
the  fate  of  Scotland  and  his  future  place  in  history,  .  .  . 
that  the  clans  were  displeased  with  the  delay,  and  the 
MacDonalds  almost  in  open  mutiny.  General  O'Sullivan 
agreed  with  the  Prince  that,  "Let's  make  Culloden  another 
Preston-pans."  The  Scotch  leaders  were  serious,  non- 
committal. 

The  Duke  of  Cumberland  was  harassed  with  doubt  and 
fear  lest  the  Scotch  would  fall  back  into  the  fastnesses  of 
Rosshire.  He  knew  his  amiy  was  heavier,  numerically 
superior,  and  that  his  artillery  and  his  horse  were  of  the 
very  best  in  the  kingdom.  He  had  Argyle  and  other  Scotch 
allies,  and  they  could  advise  him  as  to  the  ground  and  best 
point  of  attack.  The  Duke  knew  that  the  Prince  was  de- 
pending upon  the  fierceness,  the  impetuosity,  of  his  clans; 
and  he  was  relying  upon  the  steadiness,  the  give-and-take 
of  his  English. 

His  Royal  Highness,  Prince  Charles  Edward,  having  de- 
termined on  the  line  of  final  action,  and  having  endeavored 
to  pacify  Lord  Murray,  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  in 
front  of  his  men.  He  was  smiling,  he  bowed  right  and 
left,  his  face  radiant  with  hope  and  courage.  "My  friends, 
strike  for  your  homes!  Strike  for  Scotland!  You  routed 
them  at  Falkirk!  Yes,  you  did!"  The  clansmen,  ever 
faithful,  cheered  enthusiastically,  "Our  rightful  uncrowned 
King!"  He  viewed  the  fateful  Drummossie  Moor  upon 
which  he  had  cast  the  die  for  sovereignty,  death  or  exile. 
He  sat  his  cream-colored  steed,  Modena,  like  horse  and 
man  were  one. 

In  a  mile  of  his  frontage  British  regiments,  batteries  and 
squadrons  were  forming.  Today  was  to  be  historical.  A 
fight  for  a  kingdom!  The  hour  had  come  when  a  sulphur- 
ous smell  was  to  penetrate  every  hollow  and  every  cavern 


The  Battle  of  Culloden  47 

for  miles;  when  hill,  and  glen,  and  dale  were  to  be  crimson 
with  the  flow  from  the  gaping  wounds  of  the  Stuart,  and 
dolefully  resonant  with  the  groans  of  the  dying  Hanoveri- 
ans. Looking  northward  eagerly  for  Cromartie's  assist- 
ance, he  exclaimed,  "If  he  would  come!  Would  God 
would  put  a  helpful  talaria  to  every  marching  heel!" 

Rutledge  returned  and  shook  Colmey.  "Colmey,  for 
mercy's  sake  get  awake!  You  have  gone  to  sleep  beside 
your  horse.  The  bugles  are  calling;  our  people  are  en- 
ranking,  and  the  damnable  English  van  are  in  our  very 
frontage." 

"Hello!  By  heaven,  you  are  right!  See  their  magnifi- 
cent artillery  coming  bravely  into  action.  Now,  when 
those  tampions  are  removed,  and  those  lanyards  are  pulled, 
and  they  belch  forth  their  murderous  grapeshot,  God  shield 
us,  I  pray!" 

"Colmey,  you  mistake.  The  English  squadrons  are  our 
dread.  Such  mounts!  Such  men!  By  Saint  David,  I 
wish  we  were  all  lovicated.  I  tell  you  if  our  men  were  to 
break  they  would  be  ridden  down  pellmell." 

"Yes,  Rutledge,  but  what  will  make  them  break?  It 
will  be  that  artillery,  I  feel  certain." 

Prince  William,  the  Duke,  came  riding  proudly  his  milk- 
white  charger  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  told  the  infantry 
to  "give  them  your  bayonets";  to  the  artillerists  he  said, 
"Men,  let  your  guns  be  heard  by  the  King  in  London." 
An  Englishman  is  delighted  to  have  royalty  speak  to  him. 

"Now,  by  the  Black  Rood  of  Scotland,  let  us  pray  that — 
Rutledge,  if  His  Royal  Highness  intends  to  give  battle 
today,  and  my  opinion  is  worth  a  straw,  now,  right  now,  is 
the  psychological  moment  to  vigorously  attack  the  half- 
formed  masses  confronting  us,  or  quickly  retreat." 

"Don't  you  think  the  Prince  knows  best?" 

An  awful  silence  prevailed  amidst  the  Scottish  hosts. 
There  was  a  hush  for  a  few  moments.     And  now  a  smoke 


48  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

is  seen,  and  now — boom!  boom! — the  women  and  children 
and  the  far-away  cattle  on  the  mountain  sides  were  fright- 
ened at  the  sound. 

After  the  army  had  been  gotten  into  position,  Prince 
Charles  rode  along  their  ranks,  cheerfully  bowing  right  and 
left.  It  pained  him  to  his  heart  to  see  his  faithful  ad- 
herents look  so  jaded  and  careworn.  "Let  us  remember, 
friends,  Falkirk  and  Preston-pans;  don't  forget  Oster- 
bourne.  You  drove  them  back  at  Fontenoy.  Now,  my 
men,  let's  drive  the  red-coated  rogues  out  of  Scotland. 
Bounce  the  London  counter-jumping  knaves  with  your 
pikes!  Give  them  your  broadswords,  and  God  grant  we 
may  all  rejoice  tonight  that  Scotland  is  free!  Tell  Lord 
Murray  to  go  forward  and  shout  aloud,  'Bannockburn ! ' 

The  English  arose  from  having  their  stomachs  well  filled 
with  good  bread,  beef,  barley,  and  rum.  The  Duke  was 
up  early.  He  was  inured  to  the  ways  of  war.  He  com- 
manded the  allied  armies  at  Fontenoy,  and  although  he  lost, 
he  fought  so  bravely  that  he  was  complimented  by  royalties 
and  presented  by  Coburg  with  a  magnificent  white  horse, 
Alaric.  He  breakfasted  and  called  for  the  Earl  of  Albe- 
marle, Lord  Ancrum,  and  Lord  Howard,  to  talk  over  the 
coming  fight.  He  feared  the  Prince  would  retreat  into  the 
deep  recesses  of  the  Highlands.  After  each  had  given  his 
views,  and  the  Earl  assured  him  the  Scotch  Royals  would 
prove  true,  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  ordered  brandy. 
"Gentlemen,  fill  your  beakers  full.  Here's  to  Old  Eng- 
land and  bonnie  Scotia,  one  and  inseparable!"  They  all 
drank. 

"Now,  has  any  one  seen  Mister  Charlie  today?  The 
Man  from  over  the  Sea!"  The  boom  of  cannon  told  news 
of  the  coming  death  struggle. 

"Ha!  the  red-shanked  gillies  have  opened  the  ball  sure 
enough."  The  Duke  was  seen  riding  with  Colonel  Bedford 
among  the  artillery.  The  English  guns  now  opened  and 
carried  destruction  into  the  Scottish  ranks. 


The  Battle  of  Culloden  49 

"Bedford,  give  them  hell!  Harass  these  ragged  crag- 
herders.  Give  them  a  cannonade  every  second  and  play 
shinnie  with  their  red  shanks  with  grapeshot.  Lord  An- 
crum,  lead  your  dragoons  lively  against  those  mounted 
shepherd  boys.  For  Christ's  sake,  don't  spare  pushing 
your  cold  steel.  This  damnable  rebellion  shall  be  crushed. 
Ho,  there!  Bring  me  another  horse.  Saddle  Alaric! 
God  give  us  a  bloody  day  or  a  fruitful  victory." 

Saint  George  was  flying  over  the  English  and  Saint 
Andrew  over  the  Highlanders,  and  the  cross  of  Christ  out 
of  sight  and  out  of  mind.  The  drumbeats  were  answered 
by  the  wild  music  of  the  bagpipes.  The  musketry  and 
artillery  had  joined  in  fearful  roars.  The  Prince's  cream 
charger  fell — shot;  his  body-servant  shot;  and  many  of  his 
men  were  wounded  by  the  English  cannoneer  marksmen. 
The  Scotch  answered  as  best  they  could,  but  poor  guns, 
poor  powder,  gave  but  poor  results.  Scotland  was  bleed- 
ing, England  advancing. 

Prince  Charlie  felt  a  sinking  at  heart  he  never  felt  before. 
Heretofore  his  men  were  in  good  spirits  and  fair  plight ;  he 
knew  today  they  were  reversed,  and  the  MacDonalds  stub- 
born. He  knew  all  was  at  stake  and  that  Lord  Murray 
was  enraged. 

As  Colmey  sat  his  horse,  enranked  with  Lord  Elcho's 
Guards,  and  surveyed  the  front,  his  heart  sank  in  him. 
Here  England  and  Scotland  stood  face  to  face.  England 
calm  and  calculative,  Scotland  honest  and  impulsive; 
England  duly  prepared  and  armed,  Scotland  unprepared 
and  poorly  equipped;  England  a  unit,  well  fed  and  rested, 
Scotland  divided,  hungry  and  sleepy.  The  two  great  royal 
houses  of  Stuart  and  Hanover  faced  each  other  with  bitter, 
deadly  hatred.  A  deep  ravine  separated  their  Royal 
Highnesses.  Galled  by  the  English  cannon,  the  Highland- 
ers clamored  to  be  led  forward.  The  Mcintosh  clan  would 
not  wait,  but  rushed  headlong  for  the  cannon;  and  they 
were  killed  almost  to  a  man.     The  fight  now  commenced, 

4 


50  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

gradually  became  general.  Cobham  led  forward  his  dra- 
goons. The  right  and  center  of  the  Scots  closed  in  with 
the  English  in  a  desperate  struggle. 

"Rutledge,  as  sure  as  the  morning  star  shone  this  morn- 
ing— witnessing  our  disgraceful  fall  back — Prince  Charlie 
is  a  lost  man.  The  shrill  neigh  of  the  white  horse  of  Han- 
over had  crossed  the  North  Channel,  and  will  be  heard 
here  today  with  deadening  power." 

"Why,  Colmey,  why?  He  can  get  all  right  in  time  to 
thrash  these  redcoats.  This  bitter  air,  the  approach  of  the 
English,  led  on  by  their  drunken  German  Duke,  has  nipped 
rudely  your  North  Carolina  valiancy." 

"Here,  Rutledge,  I  am  in  no  humor  for  badgering.  Let 
me  remind  you,  my  sword  is  as  keen  as  the  hangar  on  your 
hip.  Your  South  Carolina  arm,  sir,  shall  not  reach  further 
than  my  North  Carolina  armed  hand  on  this  eventful  day." 

"Bravo!  bravo!  Colmey.  Now,  let's  give  the  English 
hell — drive  them,  pellmell,  back  to  their  trenches  on  the 
Nairne." 

"What,  Rutledge,  for  the  Prince  to  meet  an  army  larger 
than  his  own,  more  and  heavier  cannon,  superior  arms,  a 
disciplined  cavalry,  and  the  men  compelled  to  obey  their 
officers,  hungry  or  not  hungry?      Bah!     You'll  see." 

MacMurty  was  with  the  Fitzjames  Horse,  and  they  rode 
on  to  Inverness  to  get  refreshments.  The  MacDonald  clan, 
a  brave  and  proud  people,  were  almost  in  open  mutiny. 
The  Prince  exerted  himself  to  satisfy  and  soothe  their 
wounded  pride.  They  had  been  refused  their  right.  Every- 
body seemed  to  be  worn  out;  the  Prince  had  no  videtty  out, 
and  the  roads  were  left  open.  His  Grace  was  not  aware 
that  the  English  army  was  gathering  in  his  near  front,  and 
O'Sullivan  had  fallen  asleep  near  by  an  old  farmhouse. 

When  Culloden  was  reached  after  the  fatal  night  march, 
Lord  Elcho  used  his  every  power  to  get  food  for  his  com- 
mand and  the  horses,  but  failed.  Colmey  and  Rutledge 
bribed  the  commissary  sergeant  to  bring  them  extra  oats 


The  Battle  of  Culloden  51 

and  barley  for  their  horses,  and  by  paying  in  gold  they 
secured  some  bread  and  beef  intended  for  the  Fitzjames 
men,  the  favorites  of  the  Prince. 

"Rutledge,  old  boy,  if  the  good  Lord  will  let  us  see  dear 
old  Glasgow  again  I  shall  on  bended  knee  thank  Him. 
This  is  a  bad  kettle  of  fish." 

"Colmey,  damn  it,  don't  be  so  cast  down.  We  will  whip 
them  sure  as  hell." 

What  surprised  Colmey  was  the  absence  of  all  disci- 
pline. Prince  Charlie  feared  to  restrain  the  Highlanders; 
he  had  to  humor  them.  Colmey  looked  at  the  Prince  as 
he  sat  his  horse,  a  present  from  Lord  Huntley,  and  passed 
judgment  upon  his  mentality  and  military  acumen.  Col- 
mey came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Prince  was  brave,  right 
royal  and  knightly;  but  he  was  wanting  in  the  sterner 
qualities  that  make  up  the  great  military  leader.  In  a 
word,  he  was  no  William  the  Conqueror,  and  no  Cromwell 
the  Unbeatable. 


IX 


THE  MOOR  OF  DRUMMOSSIE 

"After  him  came  spurring  hard 
A  gentleman  almost  forspent  with  speed, 
That  stopped  by  me  to  breathe  his  bloodied  horse. 
I  did  demand  what  news  from  Shrewsbury ; 
He  told  me  rebellion  had  had  bad  luck." 

— Henry  IV. 

The  Prince  Charles  Edward  took  position  on  an  eminence 
overlooking  Drummossie  Moor.  As  he  sat  his  cream-colored 
charger  surveying  the  field,  he  was  a  picture  for  an  artist, 
confident  of  victory.  Fitzjames's  Horse  formed  around 
about  him,  and  His  Highness  watched  with  some  anxiety 
the  Kingston  Light  Horse,  urged  on  by  Lord  Bury  (of  the 
Duke's  army)  in  person,  and  saw  them  now  and  then  dash- 
ing into  the  Highland  skirmishers  and  getting  away  with- 
out much  punishment.  On  looking  on  the  whole  face  of 
the  ground,  Colmey  calmly  remarked,  "This  is  no  place  to 
fight  a  battle  with  Highlanders." 

"Why,  Colmey,  why?" 

"Because  it  is  too  level.  The  English  horse  can  easily 
maneuver  under  fire,  and  the  cannon,  of  which  they  have  a 
surplus,  can  do  deadly  execution.  The  hills  and  deep 
valleys  are  where  the  Prince  should  fight  his  fight." 

MacMurty,  ever  thoughtful,  gave  out  if  they  were  beaten 
"for  all  to  rally  in  South  Park  at  Culloden."  That  he 
would  "be  there  ready  to  guide  to  Glasgow."  MacMurty, 
of  cool  address,  had  attached  himself  to  the  Fitzjames 
Horse  that  attended  the  Prince,  being  known  and  recog- 
nized by  an  officer  of  that  command.  From  the  hilltop 
both  armies  were  plainly  in  sight.     About  one  hundred 

52 


The  Moor  of  Drummossie  53 

and  fifty  of  the  Argyllshire  clan  could  be  seen  forming  the 
van  of  the  English  army,  for  they  knew  every  foot  of  the 
ground,  supported  by  the  Kingston  Horse.  The  main  body 
of  Argyle's  men  were  left  to  guard  the  baggage  and  protect 
the  rear.  The  armies  were  about  one  mile  apart.  The 
Duke  felt  the  grave  responsibility  of  his  position — his 
father's  throne  was  at  stake.  He  pleaded  with  his  men  to 
use  the  bayonet. 

Snow  and  frost  are  nothing  new  in  the  Highlands  in 
April.  To  add  to  the  discomfort  of  the  Highlanders  a 
heavy  sleet  set  in,  with  a  cold,  sharp  wind  blowing  into  the 
faces  of  the  Scotch;  and  although  poorly  clad,  tired  and 
hungry,  they  faced  resolutely  the  battle  front  of  the  advanc- 
ing English.  In  a  few  moments,  and  now  a  smoke  is  seen — 
Boom!  Boom!  The  dreadful  roar  alarmed  the  grazing 
herds  far  up  on  the  mountains.  Boom!  Boom!  The  car- 
nival of  death  has  begun.  The  blood  of  thousands  runs 
hot.  Battery  replies  and  defies  battery.  The  cold,  driz- 
zling rain  is  forgotten;  the  demon  of  human  nature  is 
aroused.  Steeds  are  neighing,  and  the  red-coats  and  blue- 
bonnets  are  on  bloody  battle  bent.  At  one  o'clock  a  mes- 
senger rides  by  in  haste  bearing  orders  to  Lord  Murray  to 
attack  at  once.  Murray  hesitated.  He  looked  at  his  half- 
starved,  poorly  armed  men  with  a  sinking  heart.  The  day 
was  to  be  a  calamity  for  his  people.  An  officer  came  spur- 
ring from  the  Prince  to  "Go  forward  at  once!"  Murray 
gave  the  order.  His  horse  fell  beneath  him  as  he  was 
riding,  cheering  his  men. 

A  heavy  smoke  was  spreading  southward  and  the  gun- 
powder odor  helped  to  enrage  the  contending  hosts.  The 
English  were  advancing,  their  left  hid  by  the  smoke,  and 
soon  an  enfilade  fire  would  be  opened  on  the  Highland 
right.  The  painful  sublimity  of  the  scene  was  broken  by 
the  pipers.  They  piped,  they  danced,  regardless  of  shot 
and  shell.  England  was  advancing  stoutly  and  with  cheers. 
Scotland  hesitated,  dazed  but  defiant. 


54  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Rutledge,  ere  time  for  the  shepherd  to  blow  his  rude 
reed  and  safely  sheepfold  his  silly  flock,  we  will  be  a 
beaten  people." 

"Stop,  nightcrow,  your  croakings!  The  Prince  did  beat 
them  at  Falkirk,  and  today  we'll  whip  them  as  sure  as  hell. 
Hurrah  for  old  Scotland!  Rah!  for  Charlie  from  over  the 
sea!" 

Colmey  smiled  at  his  friend's  enthusiasm. 

The  skirmishers  had  fallen  back  on  the  battle  line.  The 
English  cannon  were  now  doing  serious  hurt.  Men,  horses 
and  batteries  were  falling,  and  their  infantry  were  masters 
of  the  park  walls  of  Culloden.  The  Highlanders  were 
breaking — retreating. 

Prince  Charlie — did  he  think  of  King  Charles,  his  parent, 
when  he  was  flying  from  Worcester;  of  his  sooted  face  and 
green,  greasy  pants  at  Boscobel;  his  close-cut  hair,  thus 
trying  to  hide  his  kingship?  How  frail  is  man!  Today  a 
king,  tomorrow  a  beggar.  As  he  was  hiding  in  Lewis 
Caws'  at  the  cave  of  Ellagol  did  visions  of  the  royal  oak  in 
which  his  father  was  hidden,  shivering  from  cold  and 
pinched  by  hunger — a  former  king,  now  a  wanderer — ever 
come  up  before  him?  "Man  springeth  up  as  a  flower  and 
is  cut  down.  He  passes  as  a  cloud  and  is  not."  Places  of 
honor  are  places  of  danger.  English  and  Scotch  now 
madly  fought  each  other,  with  every  advantage  for 
England. 

Colmey,  Rutledge  and  MacMurty  were  thrown  together 
in  the  hurly-burly  retreat.  The  Prince  was  everywhere, 
encouraging  his  men.  The  English  Light  Horse,  exultant, 
were  pressing  the  Highlanders  sharply.  Rutledge  was 
beset  by  two  troopers  and  Colmey  hastened  to  his  help. 
Rutledge  fought  off  one  of  his  opponents,  and  Colmey 
dashed  at  the  other,  who  proved  to  be  Ross  Maxwell.  They 
were  driven  back,  and  the  tide  of  the  Highlanders  hurried 
on  to  Milburn.  Inverness  was  a  mile  away.  The  English 
committed  cruelties  that  England  should  ever  be  ashamed 


The  Moor  of  Drummossie  55 

of — casting  down  and  bayoneting  the  surrendered  and  the 
wounded  Highlanders.  The  beloved  Prince,  who  but  a 
few  hours  ago  was  the  hero  of  the  hour,  was  now  forlorn — 
an  outcast,  a  fugitive.  The  Scotch  army  was  in  a  dis- 
astrous retreat,  seeking  safety  in  the  Rosshire  mountains. 

"Mr.  Colmey,  all  is  lost.  The  Prince  with  tears  bade  us 
farewell.  He  is  speeding  for  Glengarry,  and  my  poor 
heart  is  grieving  for  His  Royal  Highness." 

"Yes,  yes,  Mr.  MacMurty.  Let's  away  for  the  lowlands 
at  once,  for,  as  Colmey  has  said,  we  are  lost  if  we  are 
overtaken." 

MacMurty  was  level-headed.  He  took  up  the  march  for 
Badenoch.  In  going  to  Inverness  they  had  passed  through 
Lochabar  and  rested  several  hours.  But  now  they  hurried, 
leaving  Lochabar  to  their  right.  MacMurty  knew  every 
path.  Dangerous  defiles  were  passed  one  at  a  time.  His 
mother  was  a  Menzie,  and  as  they  passed  Menzie  Castle 
lights  were  burning  dimly.  MacMurty  at  daybreak  called 
at  a  house  nestling  in  the  mountainside  and  soon  an  aged 
woman  appeared.  He  told  her  who  he  was,  and  she 
promptly  invited  them  to  dismount  and  come  in  for  food 
and  shelter.  The  Menzie  colors,  white  and  red,  were 
boldly  displayed.  The  purple  martins  were  noisily  flying 
about  a  lofty  gourd  pole.  Cows  stood  ready  for  the  milk- 
ing, and  the  black  cock  was  crowing  in  the  heather  for  his 
gray-frocked  hens. 

MacMurty  told  his  kinswoman  that  the  Highland  armv 
was  badly  beaten  and  Prince  Charlie  in  hopeless  flight. 
That  the  King's  highway  from  Inverness  to  Aberdeen  was 
lost  to  the  Scotch.  Silver  was  left  on  the  table  to  compen- 
sate the  old,  courageous  dame  for  her  trouble.  At  dusk 
they  mounted  and  continued  their  flight  for  the  lowlands. 
Now  Breadalbane,  now  Montieth;  they  stopped  for  a  rest 
at  Loch  Lomond,  and  now  Lennox.  As  they  neared  Clydes- 
dale they  pushed  their  horses,  Merlin  in  the  long  lead. 
Passing  near  Duchray  Castle,  they  felt  that  home  was  not 


56  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

far  distant.  As  they  neared  the  limits  of  Glasgow  they 
slowed  up  and  avoided  the  most  public  streets,  fearing  the 
"train  bands."  At  daybreak  they  pulled  up  in  front  of 
the  Prince  Royal  Stables.  The  gray  was  exhausted,  the 
roan  was  about  done  for,  but  Colmey's  coal-black  had  his 
head  up  and  was  good  yet  for  many  a  mile.  MacMurty 
was  a  tough  fellow.  He  at  once  got  water  and  commenced 
washing  the  gray's  legs  and  body  to  remove  all  signs  of 
travel.  Rutledge  fell  down  asleep.  Colmey  followed 
MacMurty's  example,  and  rapidly  removed  all  traces  of 
clay  from  the  black.  The  horses  were  fed  on  Jutland  oats 
and  Highland  clover. 

"Now,  Mr.  Colmey,  you  and  your  friend  come  up  in  the 
stable  loft  and  take  your  much-needed  rest." 

When  Andy  and  Robin  came  they  were  sent  away,  one  to 
Edinburgh  for  corn  and  the  other  to  Greenoch  for  horses. 
MacMurty  feared  they  might  peer  about  and  find  Colmey 
and  Rutledge  in  the  upper  loft  room  and  take  notice  of  the 
gray  as  he  lay  stretched  out  in  his  stall  asleep.  Late  in 
the  afternoon  MacMurty  brought  dinner  and  woke  up  the 
young  men.  After  eating  heartily  they  got  ready,  and  at 
nightfall  they  went  quietly  out  to  get  to  their  boarding 
house.  Capehart  had  put  out  word  that  they  had  gone 
fishing  in  Nithdale. 

Rumors  were  all  aflame.  "The  Scotch  have  worsted  the 
English  at  Culloden"  and  "Inverness  and  Aberdeen  were 
besieged,"  that  "the  Highland  army  has  gained  a  great 
victory"  and  "Prince  William  is  in  a  beastly  retreat." 
"Prince  Charlie  was  the  man  of  the  hour."  Glasgow,  be- 
ing a  lowland  town,  was  still  loyal  to  the  House  of  Hanover 
and  boldly  denied  such  reports. 

Passing  up  the  street  they  met  Banty  Nicol  Ogilvy. 
Banty  saluted  most  deferentially  and  hoarsely  said,  "I 
warned  you."  When  within  and  seated  Rutledge,  ever 
ready  to  badger  his  companion,  seriously  remarked : 


The  Moor  of  Drummossie  57 

"Who  was  that  queer  blue-bonnet  and  what  was  it  he 
said?  He  bowed  lowly  to  you.  Who  in  the  devil  are  you, 
Colmey,  anyhow?" 

"Just  now,  Rutledge,  I  feel  like  I  am  nobody.'* 

"Say,  old  boy,  this  rash  adventure  of  yours  up  in  the 
Highlands,  this  long-haired,  deepset-eyed  friend  of  yours 
here  in  the  lowlands  may  yet  have  the  Duke  of  Cumberland 
to  have  you  to  kiss  the  Duke  of  Exeter's  daughter,  eh?" 

"Dread  prophet,  may  I  ask,  how  will  be  reckoned  your 
seditious  offenses  against  the  all-powerful  House  of  Han- 
over? Do  you  hope  for  them  to  be  kindly  condoned  by 
His  Grace,  the  bloody-minded  Duke  of  Cumberland?" 

"God  forbid!  I  had  rather  face  and  feel  the  Alpine 
flames,  as  was  once  ordered  by  Clement  the  Fourth." 

"As  for  me,  Colmey,  I  despise  the  all-rich,  the  all- 
powerful  nobility." 

"Rutledge,  you  are  too  fierce,  too  rash,  in  your  opposi- 
tion. We  must  bow  to  the  powers  in  lawful  authority. 
The  only  regret  that  can  come  to  a  man  is  when  he  has 
acted  his  part  badly.  Down  resting  underneath  the  shades 
of  your  palmettos,  all  this  will  come  back  to  you  as  a  sweet 
dream,  your  first  effort  to  enroll  your  name  among  the 
brave,  the  adventurous." 

"Hush!  what  noise  is  that?  By  the  Holy  Rood,  'tis  a 
company  of  English  soldiers  marching  by.  Colmey,  this 
servile  fearfulness  burdens  me  most  heavily." 


X 


THE  DEFEAT  AND  THE  RETREAT  FROM  CULLODEN 

"0  God,  that  one  might  read  the  Book  of  Fate 
And  see  the  revolution  of  the  times! 
0,  if  this  was  seen, 

The  happiest  youth  would  shut  the  book  and 
sit  him  doivn  and  die." 

Colmey  was  a  wiser  but  a  much  sadder  youth  than  ever 
before.  In  Lord  Elcho's  charge  he  crossed  swords  with 
young  Blair  that  he  had  met  before  at  Blair  Castle,  and  in 
the  mixup  in  the  retreat  he  was  fired  at  pointblank  by  Ross 
Maxwell,  a  person  he  had  often  seen  at  the  "Shaws." 
They  both  recognized  him.  He  felt  intuitively  that  sooner 
or  later  his  people  would  be  informed  that  he  was  out  with 
"Prince  Charlie  from  over  the  sea."  Now,  how  to  get 
away?  Every  port  was  guarded,  everybody  suspected. 
From  Bute  to  Dundee,  from  Glasgow  to  Solway,  spies  and 
guards  everywhere.  His  anxiety  was  wearing.  He  was 
to  go  home  the  middle  of  May,  and  it  was  now  the  first  of 
June.  He  dreaded  to  meet  his  father,  he  feared  expatria- 
tion; but  being  young,  he  was  full  of  hope  and  courage. 
Colmey  heard  with  horror  of  the  hanging  and  quartering 
of  Townley,  Dawson,  and  many  more.  The  trials  of  the 
Earls  of  Kilmarnock,  Balmerino,  and  many  others  ended 
in  their  beheadment.  The  families  and  estates  were  con- 
fiscated, and  the  enemies  of  the  House  of  Hanover  were 
hunted  down;  the  Highlanders  jailed  and  fined  severely. 
The  English  horse  patrolled  from  the  Grampian  Hills  to 
the  rough  shores  of  Strath  Naveron.  Colmey  sighed  to 
get  away  from  the  land  of  the  Red  Lion  and  the  Unicorn. 

58 


The  Defeat  and  Retreat  from  Culloden  59 

Great  war  vessels  lay  at  Aberdeen,  Greenoch,  and  the  Firth 
of  Lorn,  and  Nairn  and  Damoche  had  been  garrisoned,  and 
with  supplies.  Colmey  paced  his  room  in  anxiety  of  mind. 
He  felt  that  Blair  or  Maxwell  would  get  word  to  his  people 
of  meeting  him  in  battle  in  the  charge  and  retreat  of  the 
Highland  army.  He  exclaimed,  "Oh,  that  I  can  reach  my 
own  native  land!  I  must  change  my  name  to  Jean. 
America  forever  for  me!"  Every  officer  he  met  he  feared 
arrest  and  imprisonment.  "I  am  now  forever  Jean  Colmey. 
I  was  an  arrant  fool  to  let  myself  be  dragged  off  my  base 
by  Rutledge." 

"Capehart,  see  your  friend,  Mr.  Granberry,  and  ask  him 
if  he  will  take  a  large  trunk  along  with  him  to  Edenton.  I 
am  afraid  to  take  it  in  my  name." 

"Get  ready,  Colmey,  what  you  wish  sent.  He  will  father 
the  baggage  with  pleasure."  Mr.  Granberry  had  been 
over  to  England  and  came  by  Glasgow  to  see  Capehart, 
and  to  inquire  into  the  tobacco  business  that  was  in  a 
flourishing  condition  and  mostly  owned  by  Virginians  and 
native  Scots.  Mr.  Granberry  told  Colmey  that  his  father, 
when  last  seen  by  him,  was  in  feeble  condition,  and  invited 
him  to  go  home  with  him  on  the  next  vessel,  but  Colmey 
feared  arrest. 

"Capehart,  go  and  inquire  when  the  Queen  Margaret 
sails  for  Wilmington,  North  Carolina.  I  must  go  home, 
and  Rutledge  is  going.  Nobody  suspects  you.  We  want 
passage  for  ourselves  and  horses." 

Colmey  had  received  a  letter  from  his  father.  He  had 
received,  also,  a  few  days  before,  from  an  unsigned  party, 
a  letter  full  of  sympathy  for  his  youthful  shortsightedness, 
a  pair  of  silver  spurs  and  a  purse  of  gold.  A  ship  was 
drawn  with  the  prow  westward.  The  letter  was  signed 
"Good-bye."  Colmey  guessed  at  once  who  it  was  from. 
He  exclaimed  angrily.  "I  was  betrayed  either  by  Blair 
or  Maxwell!" 

June  had  come  and  the  land  was  filled  with  the  fragrance 


60  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

of  thousands  of  flowers.     Capehart  came  in  and  reported 
that  he  had  secured  passage  and  asked  for  particulars. 

"Go,  Capehart,  and  register  Jean  Colmey  and  horse." 

"What!  Jean?" 

"Yes,  Jean." 

"Does  Rutledge  make  any  change?" 

"I  don't  know." 

His  father's  letter  was,  to  wit,  undated: 

My  dear  Son: 

This  leaves  me  very  infirm  in  health.  Come  as  early  as  you 
can.  I  deeply  regret  the  course  you  have  pursued.  It  seems  that 
I  have  in  vain  tried  to  impress  upon  you  the  value  of  manners, 
reverence  for  those  in  authority,  and  respect  for  those  less  fortu- 
nate than  yourself;  that  the  heart  is  impulsive,  the  brain  fertile, 
and  the  hands,  feet  and  tongue  are  ready  instruments.  They  must 
all  be  guided  and  ruled  by  a  calm,  not  a  heated,  judgment.  Being 
so  young,  I  humbly  pray  it  was  but  the  ebullition  of  courageous 
but  unadvised  youth.  If  I  should  be  called  away,  see  my  friend, 
Mr.  Banbury.  With  heart  and  hands  full  of  love  for  you,  my 
long-absent  son,  I  am,  as  ever,  devotedly  Your  Father. 

Colmey  in  bitter  grief  called  out,  "0  my  father!  God 
knows  I  meant  no  wrong."  A  sadness  came  into  his  heart 
that  remained  there  until  his  dying  day. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Mac,  come  in." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  had  you  not  sabred  that  villainous  red- 
coat near  Milburne,  I  would  be  now  dead  on  the  heather 
side  of  Inverness.  As  I  hear  you  are  to  soon  leave  for 
home,  let  me  give  you  from  my  wife  a  remembrance  of 
me  and  Culloden."  MacMurty  gave  Colmey  a  solid  gold 
bangle;  he  said  he  had  found  it  in  the  oak  woods  of  Lanark. 
(See  notes.)  The  cups  at  the  end  were  enlarged,  shaped 
like  a  pointed  egg.     It  was  old  and  heavy  and  chased. 

"Well,  sir,  I  will  give  this  to  the  to-be  Mrs.  Colmey,  and 
we  will  name  it  the  'MacMurty  Jewel.'  Thank  you,  sir, 
thank  you." 

Strange  but  true,  the  gold  treasure  of  long  ago  from  Ire- 


The  Defeat  and  Retreat  from  Culloden  61 

land,  Rome  and  Asia  was  sometimes  found  in  the  derries 
of  Scotland,  hidden  by  hands  long  since  cold  and  nerveless 
in  death. 

Capehart  directed  the  embarking  to  Wilmington  of  the 
horses,  and  when  darkness  had  settled  over  the  city  Colmey 
and  Rutledge  went  aboard  the  Queen  Margaret  and  were 
assigned  to  their  cabins.  Crowds  came  and  went  the  gang- 
way, bidding  friends  good-bye  and  putting  aboard  the 
baggage.  Guards  were  there,  but  the  close  watchfulness 
had  been  suspended  by  an  indifference.  Just  a  semblance 
of  inquiry  was  now  exercised. 

At  4  a.m.  eight  bells  were  struck  and  the  goodly  ship 
weighed  anchor  and  down  the  Clyde  she  sailed,  an  object 
of  beauty  and  inanimate  grace.  Full  day  was  on,  and 
passing  the  Kingtyre,  Colmey  could  see  the  South  Mac- 
Donalds,  in  their  bonnets  and  kilts,  and  hear  the  bagpipes 
as  they  were  playing  lustily  "The  Cock  of  the  North." 

A  last  long  look  at  Lake  Ryan,  and  his  eyes  became 
misty,  his  bosom  heaved ;  to  him  it  was  farewell  forever  to 
Scotland.  Without  a  delay,  the  sea  lay  broadly  and 
smoothly,  and  the  Queen  Margaret  in  due  time  entered  the 
Cape  Fear  safely. 


XI 


THE  COUNCIL  AT  BALGRAY 

"Agamemnon, 
Thou  great  commander  and  bone  of  Greece, 
Heart  of  our  numbers." 

The  grand  halls,  old  and  time-worn,  scattered  here  and 
there  in  Great  Britain,  bear  testimony  of  the  wide-open 
hospitality  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  lords  of  the  many  secure 
nested  isles.  The  leaders  were  found  there  for  centuries. 
A  people  to  succeed  must  have  an  eye  to  supreme  facts; 
a  nation  to  live,  expand  and  thrive,  must  have  the  sense  to 
recognize  industry  and  economy  as  national  assets.  No 
people  can  get  along  without  a  leader,  one  to  stand  at  the 
front  and,  if  need  be,  defend  the  breach.  Great  men  are 
the  treasurers  of  the  wealth  of  their  people. 

The  meeting  at  Balgray  was  one  of  momentous  impor- 
tance. The  question  was,  are  the  white  settlers  to  live,  to 
remain  as  a  people  in  Carolina?  A  cruel  war  had  been 
going  on  between  the  white  and  red  races  for  years,  and  the 
red  man  had  so  far  been  able  to  circumvent,  withstand  the 
attacks  of  the  whites.  Governor  Eden  was  dead,  the  Colony 
was  left  without  a  chief.  Every  eye  turned  to  Balgray. 
It  was  there  Colonel  Cary  opened  his  guns,  landed  his  men, 
and  assailed  the  home  of  Colonel  Pollock.  They  were  met 
promptly  and  driven  back  to  their  ship.      (See  records.) 

The  white  settlements  were  few  and  far  apart.  Gloom 
had  come  to  many  and  dread  had  come  to  all.  The 
American  Indian  loves  war  and  blood,  pillage  and  rapine. 
A  leader  was  needed  most  pressingly.  A  council  was 
called  at  Balgray,  and  Thomas  Pollock,  a  man  of  large 
experience   and   wealth,   was   unanimously   proffered   the 

62 


The  Council  at  Balgray  63 

commandancy-in-chief.  He  respectfully  declined,  and  ad- 
vised Baron  de  Graffenried,  and  suggested  an  adjourn- 
ment until  after  supper.  The  most  vital  question  to  settle, 
and  settle  at  once,  was,  who  was  the  man  to  take  control  of 
the  affairs  of  North  Carolina,  who  could  advise  the  Colony, 
who  could  secure  the  sinews  of  war?  After  supper,  as  per 
adjournment,  Mr.  Gales  was  to  report  as  to  success  in 
seeking  men  and  means  from  Virginia.  It  was  an  hour 
of  supreme  peril. 

The  council  met  as  per  agreement  to  hear  Mr.  Gales's 
report  as  to  success  in  obtaining  men  and  means  of  Vir- 
ginia. The  chairman  said:  "Gentlemen,  please  be  seated. 
Our  ambassador  brings  but  poor  comfort  from  the  north." 

Gales:  Governor  Spotswood  was  entertaining,  but  he 
could  not  restrain  himself  from  making  me  feel  that  my 
Colony  was  a  suppliant  to  a  greater.  These  are  his  de- 
mands, and  to  the  letter  they  must  be  complied  with.  He 
made  me  feel  that  there  was  distance  considerable  between 
a  Colony  enjoying  the  protection  of  the  Crown  itself,  and  a 
province  under  the  neglect  of  Colonial  Proprietors.  He 
was  quite  chesty.  (See  Colonial  Records,  vol.  II,  pp.  6 
and  7.) 

Pollock  :  Gentlemen,  we  must  not  forget  that  the  Gov- 
ernor is  looking  at  conditions  from  his  standpoint,  not  ours. 
He  has  been  so  long  used  to  seeing  all  the  roads  of  profit 
and  power  leading  to  his  State  that  his  attitude  was  some- 
what expected.     For  a  season  we  must  forbear. 

Boyd:  Colonel  Pollock,  do  you  advise  complying  with 
this  big- wig's  demand?  I  am  sick  of  seeing  North  Carolina 
eating  humble  pie. 

Gales  :  It  seems  to  me  the  serious  predicament  in  which 
we  find  ourselves  demands  our  most  deliberate  thought  and 
most  cautious  action. 

Pollock:  I,  for  one,  am  unwilling  to  comply  with 
such  overbearing  terms,  but  it  can  be  but  best  not  to  out- 


64  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

right  displease  Governor  Spotswood.  We  are  in  a  sorry 
plight  and  he  knows  it. 

Chervin:  I  think  'tis  best  not  to  be  too  outspoken,  but 
leave  open  the  subject  for  future  consideration.  I  am 
against  such  arbitrary  demands  and,  Mr.  Chairman,  we 
look  to  you  to  find  a  way  out  of  this  difficulty.  Our  trou- 
bles seem  interminable. 

Pollock:  Last  night,  in  reading  over  the  stipulations, 
I  was  warmly  annoyed  at  its  Serbonian  appearance;  but 
today  I  feel  hopeful,  and  I  am  fully  persuaded  in  my  mind 
that  we  can  and  will  meet  the  situation  squarely.  We  will 
find  a  way  out  of  it,  and  we  must  do  our  own  milling  in 
the  future;  quit  paying  toll  to  Virginia. 

Gales:  I  would  to  God  that  could  be  done.  It  would 
teach  Governor  Spottswood  a  requisite  lesson.  It  makes 
my  blood  rage  to  treat  us  as  if  we  were  biddable  beggars. 

Pollock:  Gentlemen,  let's  keep  cool.  The  quiddities 
of  the  Governor  we  must  allow  for.  I  must  admit  I  want 
to  cast  defiance  into  his  teeth,  but  discretion  will  sway  us. 
We  must  bestir  ourselves;  arouse  the  martial  spirit  of  our 
people;  advance  money  needed  now;  and  fight  it  out  on  our 
own  lines. 

In  the  council  sat  the  brave  and  learned  Gales;  there  sat 
bold  Boyd,  outspoken  and  fearless;  on  the  left  Chervin,  a 
man  wise  and  thoughtful;  Reed,  sagacious  and  intensely 
patriotic;  and  Knight,  well  versed  in  the  ways  of  commit- 
tees and  useful  in  every  emergency — all  intent  to  labor  for 
the  upbuilding  of  the  best  interest  of  North  Carolina. 

Leaning  back  in  his  chair,  the  chairman  laughingly  re- 
marked: "Fortune  is  frowning  upon  us,  gentlemen,  just 
now,  and  our  ancient  quarrel  over  the  boundary  line  and 
the  Meherrin  Indians  is  too  well  remembered  by  His  Ex- 
cellency for  him  not  to  desire  to  drive  a  good  bargain  and 
make  me  subordinate  myself  a  little.  Let  us  hope  we  will 
triumphantly  emerge  from  this  imbroglio.  I  contended 
that  the  Nansemond  River  should  be  the  line." 


The  Council  at  Balgray  65 

Boyd:  Gentlemen  of  the  council,  I  make  motion  that 
Mr.  Gales  be  voted  our  sincere  thanks  for  his  invaluable 
services;  and  further,  that  we  commit  our  fortunes  into  the 
hands  of  our  chairman,  making  him  commander-in-chief 
of  the  forces  of  the  Province,  and  pray  that  he  may  bring 
to  a  speedy  close  this  barbarous  war. 

To  all  of  which  the  entire  council  said  "Amen!" 

The  chairman  thanked  them  for  their  confidence,  but 
advised  that  a  younger  man  be  selected;  that  Baron  de 
Graffenried  or  any  of  the  late  Governor  Eden's  Cabinet 
might  be  selected;  to  any  he  would  give  his  undivided 
support.  "I  most  earnestly  ask  you  to  make  some  one  else 
chief."  Motion  was  made  that  unlimited  powers  be  given 
to  the  commander-in-chief,  to  all  of  which  the  council 
agreed  unanimously.      (See  Colonial  Records.) 

The  chairman  answered:  "Gentlemen,  if  you  will  not 
excuse  me,  I  will  accept  and  do  my  best.  You  will  please 
take  under  consideration  resolutions  of  condolence  to  Mrs. 
Eden.  Make  yourselves  at  home,  gentlemen,  and  excuse 
me  for  a  short  season." 

Boyd:  Was  it  at  Fontenoy,  in  France,  or  at  Minden 
that  his  brother  was  killed  in  the  assault?  I  understand 
that  he  was  given  the  silk  at  Glasgow  Law  School  and  has 
been  offered  a  barony. 

The  chairman  threw  his  short  coat  around  himself, 
walked  out  in  the  dark  and  anxiously  debated  the  situation. 
"What  am  I  to  do?  I  must  see  King  Blount  myself  and 
win  him  with  money  and  promises.  I  must  strike  Governor 
Spottswood  on  the  lines  of  state  interest  and  state  safety, 
and  earnestly  appeal  to  Governor  Craven's  magnanimity. 
Spottswood  must  be  made  to  strengthen  his  lines  for  his 
State's  protection.  Spottswood  loves  Virginia,  and  I  ad- 
mire it  in  him,  and  I  must  in  some  way  induce  him  immedi- 
ately to  take  active  measures  in  heading  off  on  his  northern 
line  any  inroads  from  bands  of  northern  Indians  that  will 
find  their  way  down  here  to  assist  the  Tuscaroras  and  Cores. 


66  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

I  will  send  Jones  first  to  purchase  duffels,  etc.,  and  let  him 
tell  of  the  rumors  that  the  Contentneas  will  meet  with  the 
Mohawks  and  Senecas  from  the  north,  and  after  the  Tus- 
caroras,  Pungoes  and  Cores  have  scalped  North  Carolina, 
they  will  combine  and  attack  Virginia  from  the  south.  In 
due  time  I  will  send  Gales  back  to  see  if  the  demands  might 
not  be  moderated,  and  he  will  repeat  the  rumors  and  tell 
of  the  horrors  that  may  be  expected  of  the  Indians  when 
they  annihilate  the  whites  of  North  Carolina.  Spottswood 
is  on  the  lookout  and  is  a  little  nervous,  and  it  will  force 
him  to  strengthen  his  armament  on  the  boundary  line  and 
make  him  exercise  caution  in  keeping  back  any  more  north- 
ern Indians  from  coming  through  Virginia  to  North  Caro- 
lina. Spottswood  looks  upon  a  strong,  active  neighbor 
with  suspicion  and  jealousy,  and  ungenerously  withholds 
needed  help  in  our  present  crucial  distress.  Bah!  Such 
terms!  I  will  never  agree  to  them.  It  would  dishonor  us. 
Come  what  may,  I  will  such  offers  refuse.  I  must  not 
forget  Virginia  is  wise,  for  self  only."  (See  Colonial 
Records.) 

The  lights  in  the  cabins  cast  a  light  far  out  on  the  waters 
of  the  Chowan,  and  the  chewing  of  the  "cuds"  and  "lows" 
from  the  cattle  with  well-filled  paunches  were  the  only 
noises  perceptible  to  the  ear  as  he  walked  to  and  fro.  The 
Albemarle,  in  the  distance,  lighted  up  by  the  effulgence  of 
the  moon,  looked  as  a  broad  band  of  silver. 

"All  Nature  is  at  ease,  except  my  anxious  heart  and 
throbbing  brain.  This  is  a  responsibility  I  never  coveted. 
Yet  this  grave  undertaking  I  must  not  shun.  I  fear  my 
friends  will  expect  too  much,  and  my  enemies  will  cant  and 
decry  my  every  honest  effort,  and  Moseley  will  be  apt  to 
show  his  cloven  foot." 

"Is  that  you,  master?" 

"Yes,  Judah.     Are  you  looking  for  me?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  heard  you  were  going  away  early,  and  I 
wanted  to  get  your  orders." 


The  Council  at  Balgray  67 

"Have  Argyle  saddled  and  your  horse  ready  about  cock- 
crow in  the  morning.     Wake  me  early,  Judah." 

"Yes,  sir.     What  clothes  shall  I  lay  out." 

"My  leather  clothes  and  baurick,  top  boots  and  heavy 
cape,  and  don't  forget  your  arms.  I  pray  God  that  future 
generations  will  enjoy  peacefully  this  dear  land  that  now 
smells  of  blood  and  powder." 

Colonel  Pollock  had  orders  issued  for  all  able-bodied 
men  to  assemble  at  New  Bern.  He  ordered  two  of  his  best 
vessels  to  New  Bern  and  instituted  a  depot  of  supplies  for 
the  troops  coming  from  South  Carolina.  Wagons  and  con- 
veyances were  impressed,  and  drivers,  whenever  the  neces- 
sity of  the  occasion  demanded  it.  Certificates  were  ordered 
to  be  given  so  that  after  the  war  was  over  the  people  should 
be  paid  for  their  substance. 

If  great  forgetfulness  of  duty  to  country  was  in  the  air 
to  poison  the  minds  of  the  dazed  settlers,  he  upon  whose 
shoulders  the  destiny  of  the  colony  was  resting  deemed  it 
best  to  withstand  the  present  defamatory  charges  with 
patient  equanimity.  He  knew  to  swerve  now  from  the 
path  of  duty  was  destruction  to  the  white  race;  the  bloody 
arms  of  the  merciless  Indians  were  uplifted.  The  good 
people  of  the  colony  knew  that  the  present  unpleasant 
burdens  had  to  be  accepted,  and  as  to  the  right  and  wrong 
of  impressments,  the  seizing  of  every  means  to  meet  the 
emergency,  was  to  be  left  to  the  fair  judgment  of  the  future. 

The  plea  was  sent  out,  supplicatory  for  help.  South 
Carolina  sent  men,  money  and  sympathy.  Virginia  sent 
arbitrary  demands,  which  North  Carolina  flatly  refused  to 
consider.  The  danger  was  very  great.  North  Carolina 
became  suddenly  envisioned,  fell  back  trustfully  on  the 
sagacity  of  her  aged  commander-in-chief,  invoked  the  in- 
nate valor  of  her  sons,  the  heroic  encouragement  of  her 
daughters.  The  silver  was  put  in  the  crucible  and  came 
out  stamped  with  the  image  of  Mars! 

Colonel  Pollock  gave  orders  for  the  erection  of  a  strong 


68  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

fort  and  stockade,  an  infirmary  and  a  commissary  building 
to  be  at  once  set  up  at  New  Bern,  near  the  banks  of  the 
Neuse  River.  Boats  and  teams  for  transportation  of  sup- 
plies were  to  be  secured  for  the  army.  Impressment  would 
be  resorted  to  if  necessary;  for  the  life  and  property  of  the 
Colony  were  in  dire  jeopardy.  He  issued  to  the  people 
the  following  spirited  address: 

President  Pollock's  Appeal 

Gentlemen,  Friends  and  Neighbors  : 

Our  all  is  now  at  stake,  our  country,  our  wives,  our  children, 
our  estates,  and  all  that  is  dear  to  us.  Let  us  therefore  bear  with 
patience  some  hardships — let  us  strive  against  all  difficulties. 

Gentlemen,  let  us  look  to  God,  and  implore  His  assistance  and 
direction.  Let  us  lay  aside  all  animosity,  differences,  and  dis- 
sensions amongst  ourselves.  Shun  such  that  endeavor  to  raise 
mutinies.  I  take  God  for  my  witness,  that  I  have  not  been  wanting 
in  my  true  endeavors  for  the  country's  good.  The  peace  and 
prosperity  whereof  shall  be  the  chief  and  only  aim  of  him  who 
is,  in  all  sincerity,  gentlemen, 

Your  Obt.  Servant, 

Thomas  Pollock, 

Major-Gen.  &  Comd.-Chief  of  N.  C. 
Balgray:  Near  Edenton,  N.  C. 

(Vol.  I,  p.  879.     Oct.  3,  1712.) 


XII 


THE  MEETING  OF  FRIENDS 

"To  where  yon  taper  cheers  the  vale 
With  hospitable  ray." 

— Goldsmith. 

The  herding  instinct  permeates  the  entire  animal  king- 
dom. In  every  age,  in  every  clime,  an  innate  magnetism 
has  an  active,  a  real  being,  and  encompassed  in  a  bright 
mind;  and  that  mind,  backed  by  lustrous  pacts  of  golden 
coinage,  always  will  have  a  magnetic  drawing  quality — a 
power  about  irresistible. 

The  presence,  the  conversation  of  a  man  of  fine  talents, 
are  naturally  attractive  and  edifying,  and  when  wealth, 
culture,  and  an  enhanced  power  of  persuasion  are  also 
added  thereto,  it  makes  him  more  substantial — more 
powerful. 

In  colonial  times,  visits  by  friends  and  neighbors  were 
expected,  solicited,  and  keenly  enjoyed.  In  that  day  and 
time  men  and  their  wives  had  the  happy  faculty  of  knowing 
how  to  enjoy  life  and  how  to  acceptably  impart  their  cheer 
and  good  humor  to  others. 

"Squire  Gales,  this  is  our  first  meeting  since  we  met  last 
at  Edenton." 

;'Yes,  sir,  you  are  correct.  Did  you  notice  that  Colonel 
Pollock  and  Mr.  Moseley  came  to  town  about  the  same 
time?     Did  you  notice  that  they  avoid  each  other?" 

"No,  I  did  not.  I  saw  only  Mr.  Moseley.  Don't  you 
think  he  is  much  stouter  in  these  later  years?" 

'Yes,  and  he  is  heavier  in  purse  and  wider  in  lands. 
Moseley,  in  a  word,  has  got  together  a  good  deal  of 
property." 

"His  sorrels,  Tobey  and  Smoker,  were  sweaty  and  damp. 


70  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Seeing  Mr.  Moseley  alight,  I  could  but  notice  his  large, 
round  head  and  strong,  square  jaw.  Isn't  it  strange  that 
he  is  so  unconcerned  over  our  troubles?  I  like  him  per- 
sonally, and  his  brusque  manners,  his  keen  sense  of  humor 
make  him  popular  with  many  of  the  people." 

'Yes,  and  add,  friend  Boyd,  his  plain  clothes  and  a 
rough-and-tumble  way  he  has  in  argument.  I  shall  never 
forget  our  exile  in  Virginia.  It  was  bitter  to  me."  (See 
Colonial  Records.) 

"Your  stay  for  months,  I  know,  was  ill  brooked,  but  he 
meant  the  blow  for  Colonel  Pollock;  he  knew  Pollock  would 
not  submit  to  such  a  forceful  change." 

"He  meant — yes,  it  was  that  he  and  Carey  and  that 
crowd  could  overpower  all  opposition  and  have  their  way. 
Their  greed  and  haste  led  them  into  a  grievous  pit."  (See 
Colonial  Records.) 

"It  is  said  in  their  bitter  quarrel  that  Moseley  fiercely 
called  Pollock  a  'd — nd  haughty  Scot,'  and  Pollock  ele- 
vated his  black  eyebrows  and  quietly  remarked,  'Ah!  the 
greedy  Picaroon.'  In  heaven's  name,  what  could  have 
prompted  Moseley  to  break  into  the  Secretary's  Office  of 
State  and  rashly  take  by  force  government  papers?  What 
a  blunder!" 

"Friend  Boyd,  he  is  talented  and  ambitious,  but  he  sadly 
lacks  symmetry  of  judgment.  He  is  popular — all  wran- 
glers have  followers — but  I  don't  believe  the  people  desire 
to  have  him  given  full  power  over  the  Colony." 

"Do  you  know  what  brought  Pollock  to  Edenton  on  that 
occasion?  He  looked  harassed,  and  his  bow  was  polite, 
but  more  formal  than  friendly." 

"He  came  over  to  see  the  doctor  about  Governor  Eden's 
illness.  Friend  Boyd,  the  Governor's  death,  I  fear,  will 
convulse  this  Colony  and  bloody  tyranny  will  boldly  lift  its 
head  unless  a  man  of  nerve  is  elected  and  empowered  to 
uphold  and  enforce  law.     It  is  to  be  mob  violence  or  law." 

"I  fear  the  worst  is  to  come.     The  sight  of  an  Indian 


The  Meeting  of  Friends  71 

quickens  my  apprehension.     Let's  walk  down  to  the  stables 
and  look  over  the  horses.     Mr.  Gales,  these  giant  yellow 
poplars  seem  to  be  the  preferred  tree  of  Balgray." 
"My  dear  sir,  look  over  there — what  locusts!" 
"How  do  you  do,  Uncle  Manewell?    Well,  shake  hands." 
"Am  mighty  well,  boss." 

Over  every  stable  door  was  the  name  of  the  horse  that 
occupied  it — blacks  and  chestnuts  everywhere. 

"See  here,  Squire,  here  are  the  gems,  these  silver-maned 
chestnuts,  Aberdeen  and  Airly,  dark  and  dappled. 

"Uncle  Manewell,  this  is  a  stunning  beauty,  Rosalind." 
"Yaas,  boss,  she's  mistus'  saddle  mare,  sir." 
"What  kind   of  team  do  you  keep  over  there,   Uncle 
Manewell?" 

"Yaassir,  de  farm  stables;  yaassir,  over  thar  de  duns, 
buckskins  and  sorrels;  yaassir,  for  to  stand  up  to  hot 
weather  and  rough  uses.  Old  man  'Cipio  is  in  de  charge, 
sir,  of  de  farm  stables." 

"The  manor  stables  are  more  select,  are  they?" 

"Yaas,  boss,  de  blacks  and  de  chestnuts  for  quality  folks, 


sir." 


Mr.  Boyd  dropped  some  silver  into  Uncle  Manewell's 
hand  and  told  him  that  this  visit  had  been  pleasant,  and 
bade  him  good-bye. 

"Look,  boss,  yonder  comes  master  in  his  boat;  and  my 
boys,  Jack  and  Frank,  is  'er  pulling  de  oars,  sir;  yaassir." 

In  a  handsome  goodly  sized  water  craft  could  be  seen 
Colonel  Pollock  and  his  two  close  friends,  Squire  Johnstone 
and  Captain  Hecklefield. 

At  the  landing  on  each  side  were  very  large  scaly-bark 
hickory  trees,  whose  lofty  branches  and  deep  green  leaves 
make  this  tree  one  of  the  most  noticeable  and  attractive 
trees  of  the  valley  lands  of  North  Carolina. 

The  old-time  bronze  door-knocker  in  shape  of  a  wild 
boar  was  on  the  front  door,  and  when  within,  the  servant  in 
waiting,  if  a  gentleman,  the  guest  was  ushered  into  the 


72  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

library  room,  which  was  on  the  right  of  the  hallway.  The 
library  floor  was  covered  with  a  Mortlake  carpet  of  berga- 
mot  yellow  and  deep  sage  green.  Eden  and  de  Graffenried, 
Barnwell  and  Moore,  Gales  and  Glover  here  the  destinies 
of  Carolina  determined;  here  the  experience  and  the  enter- 
prise of  the  Colony  were  descanted  on  and  tested.  In  this 
room,  on  top  of  a  large  black  walnut  bookcase,  was  a  uni- 
corn, a  basket  of  lilies  of  the  valley,  and  a  costly  musette. 

Queen  Anne's  portrait  in  oil  adorned  the  walls,  and  a 
herd  of  black  cattle  of  Scotland  in  crayon,  standing  at 
gaze,  gave  a  pastoral  beauty  to  the  collection.  The  cur- 
tains were  of  a  soft  sea-green,  and  the  chairs  and  the  couch 
were  of  French  walnut  and  leather  trimmed.  Maps  and 
globes  were  in  easy  reach,  and  the  large  suspended  lamp 
of  oil,  easily  lighted,  gave  forth  a  delicate  perfume  of 
crushed  patchouly  leaves.  The  windows  were  rather  small 
and  high-pitched,  and  the  flower  garden  near  at  hand  gave 
the  room  when  the  windows  were  up  a  fragrance  of  rose, 
lilacs,  and  geranium.  A  sword  lay  across  the  mantelpiece 
in  leather  case,  and  on  it  was  marked  "Fontenoy."  Pol- 
ished andirons  held  up  oak  and  maple  wood,  and  the 
warmth  was  felt  to  the  uttermost  part  of  the  room.  A 
large  black  walnut  center  table  had  papers,  inkstand,  and 
goose-quill  pens  ready  for  the  master's  using.  Two  Bel- 
gian tapestries  attracted  attention,  "A  Ship  at  Anchor  at 
Antwerp"  and  "The  Crusader's  Return."  Bentinck,  Chau- 
cer, Glammell's  Military  Engineering,  Egmont's  Cam- 
paigns, all  well-kept  volumes,  were  lying  upon  a  side  table. 

The  library  reflected  an  atmosphere  of  cheer  and  wel- 
come. There  was  a  sense  of  order,  an  air  of  refinement, 
pervading  every  room  and  hallway.  Lying  at  full  length 
near  the  staircase  was  a  bluish  greyhound  with  a  silver 
collar  around  his  neck,  lying  upon  an  Oriental  rug — 
sleeping,  and  yet  awake. 

One  important  Indian  rendezvous,  which  was  well  known, 
was  at  Conaho  Creek  and  another  at  Cashie  River.     These 


The  Meeting  of  Friends  73 

meeting  places — "mudnest  wasps,"  as  they  were  called  by 
the  settlers — were  stockaded.  High  revels  and  future  dep- 
redations against  the  whites  were  here  planned,  and  in  due 
time  were  savagely  executed.  The  murderous  chiefs, 
King  Hancock,  Great  Peter,  and  Black  Wolf,  here  sat  and 
ate  their  venison  and  puffed  their  pipes.  It  was  a  war  of 
races. 

The  duty  of  two  faithful  white-headed  servants  was  to 
keep  a  night  watch  over  the  household  at  Balgray.  They 
went  around  the  premises  with  old  blunderbusses,  to  be 
fired  off  if  necessary  to  give  warning  of  danger.  About 
twelve  miles  from  Balgray,  towards  Pamlico  River,  the 
Indians  had  a  rendezvous  where  many  braves  were  accus- 
tomed to  meet.  Being  known  far  and  wide  that  at  Balgray 
eternal  vigilance  was  exercised,  that  a  sustained  watch, 
steady  and  eternal,  was  had,  it  had  a  salutary  and  protec- 
tive influence  on  the  entire  settlement.  In  the  daytime 
these  aged  watchmen  slept  when  they  pleased  to,  and  at 
night  they  went  on  duty  to  guard  the  sleeping  inmates  from 
the  wily  foe.  Venus  and  Natoose,  house  servants,  were 
ordered  to  have  bread  and  wine  for  them  in  the  south  entry. 

A  great  Dane  dog  named  Lido  followed  Uncle  Mingo  for 
a  while,  and  then  Uncle  Joe.  Her  size,  her  strength  and 
fierceness  were  the  admiration  and  the  talk  of  the  dusky 
inhabitants  of  Balgray.  Her  annual  litter  of  puppies — 
half  greyhounds — were  sought  for  eagerly,  as  they  proved 
when  grown  to  be  serviceable  watchdogs.  The  low  growl 
of  the  pioneer's  dependable  dog  made  him  instantly  seize 
his  gun,  ready  to  fight — made  his  wife  catch  up  her  infant 
to  her  throbbing  breast. 

The  daily  dangers,  the  nights  of  horror  our  fathers  and 
mothers,  the  first  settlers  of  the  Chowan,  the  Neuse,  and  the 
Trent  suffered,  cannot  at  this  distance  be  so  gratefully 
estimated  as  it  should  be;  but  it  is  sweet  to  remember  they 
endured  and  they  won!  and  this  precious  sacred  heritage 
must  be  kept  preserved  by  us  at  every  hazard. 


XIII 


THE  MEETING  OF  THE  CHIEFS  AT  FORT  NOHOROCO, 

OR  NAHUCKY 

"Truly  the  souls  of  men  are  full  of  dread; 
Ye  cannot  reason  almost  with  a  man 
Tliat  looks  not  heavily  and  full  of  fear." 

— King  Richard  III. 

The  red  man  of  America  is  a  man  full  of  adventure  and 
courage,  by  nature  a  born  warrior.  The  great  fight  in 
Craven  at  Barnwell,  the  bloody  bouts  in  Lenoir  (Dobbs) 
were  to  be  crowned  by  a  standup  fight  for  weeks  in  the 
fertile  lands  of  (Glasgow)  Greene.  The  Indians  were  well 
aware  of  the  harassing  fact  that  their  hunting  grounds  were 
being  invaded,  trespassed  upon.  They  must  fight.  Their 
leaders  advised  to  strike  at  once  before  the  white  man 
became  stronger  in  numbers.  Runners  had  been  sent  to 
the  north,  to  the  west,  and  to  the  south  to  advise  them  of 
their  purpose. 

A  carefully  constructed  fort  was  to  be  erected  at  once, 
which  would  be  their  headquarters.  Large  quantites  of 
corn,  beans,  rice,  bacon,  fish,  deer  meat,  acorns,  walnuts, 
and  mussels,  soon  to  be  stored.  A  large  rangey  pen  was 
built  to  hold  cattle  and  hogs  for  their  use  when  needed. 
They  reckoned  on  help  from  the  great  Five  Nations  of  the 
north — they  were  blood  kin.  They  thought  they  had  plenty 
of  time.  The  Chowans  watched  for  a  chance  to  send  men, 
the  Meherrins  promised  guns  and  corn.  They  feared  to 
again  contend  openly  with  Colonel  Pollock  and  waited  to 
see  how  the  war  went.  The  Nottaways  and  Pamunkeys  of 
Virginia  were  alive  to  the  necessity  of  bathing  their  toma- 
hawks in  blood  to  save  their  several  fisheries  and  their 

74 


Meeting  of  Chiefs  at  Fort  Nohoroco  75 

wild  game  preserves.  The  Santees  of  South  Carolina  were 
sending  braves.  In  fact,  hatred  deep  and  dire  filled  the 
red  man's  breast  against  the  white  settlers  throughout  the 
Southland.  They  were  determined  to  wipe  from  Carolina 
the  hated  paleface.  They  felt  sure  of  doing  it.  Why  not? 
The  whites  were  tired  of  war,  the  Quakers  clamored  for 
peace,  prominent  citizens  were  viciously  opposed  to  Gov- 
ernor Eden  and  his  Cabinet.  Yellow  fever  was  abroad, 
crops  had  been  a  failure,  and  the  settler  was  disheartened. 
The  shrill  war-whoop  was  heard  from  Contentnea  to  Bath. 
The  whites  felt  cowed,  the  day  dark.  Whose  call  would 
they  listen  to?  Whose  spirit  was  strong  enough  to  arouse 
the  people  to  continue  to  fight  for  home,  life  and  children? 
The  birlaws  of  the  whites  were  understood. 

Blue  Fox,  from  the  Nottaways,  a  great  medicine  man, 
told  them  the  Great  Spirit  had  spoken,  that  they  would 
conquer,  that  the  white  man  must  go.  Black  Eagle  and 
Mad  Calf  laughed,  hooted  and  ridiculed  the  idea  of  the 
whites  offering  but  little  resistance.  Only  WTiite  Cloud 
advised  peace.  The  young  warriors  thought  he  was  an  old 
mossy  fossil,  and  he  knew  they  were  fools.  King  Blount 
was  watched,  but  he  had  promised  support.  King  Hancock 
was  coming  to  their  aid,  and  provisions  and  cattle  were 
being  brought  in  daily  from  the  homes  of  murdered  settlers. 
Smooth-bore  muskets  were  secured  from  Virginia  traders, 
the  sacred  pipe  was  being  smoked,  and  men  had  been  set 
apart  for  making  deadly  arrows.  Messengers  came  in 
from  the  Mattamuskeets,  the  Pungoes,  and  the  Hatteras 
tribes  that  they  would  lend  a  helping  hand. 

They  had  selected  a  high,  wide  place,  away  from  the 
large  trees,  after  many  days  of  deliberation.  The  water 
supply  had  been  an  all-important  item  with  them,  yet  they 
thought  best  to  be  well  away  from  the  creek;  they  consid- 
ered if  they  were  defeated  they  could  get  away  best  and 
that  reinforcements  could  get  to  them  better  away  from  the 
water.     But  water  must  be  had. 


76  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

When  the  Indians  lost  out  the  prophet  said  the  moon  was 
hanging  wrong  and  that  the  screech-owls  forbade  any  ad- 
vance. Their  medicine  men  promised  that  by  the  new 
moon  the  war-cry  of  the  Tuscaroras  would  turn  the  white 
man's  blood  to  water.  Some  Cherokees  came  in  and 
brought  encouraging  news  that  King  Hancock  was  coming 
with  many  braves.  From  New  York  to  South  Carolina  the 
feeling  between  the  whites  and  the  reds  was  becoming  more 
bitter,  more  deadly.  Every  white  settler,  every  red  man, 
was  convincd  by  the  light  of  events  transpiring  around 
about  them  that  they  were  nearing  a  final  battle  for  the 
possession  of  the  broad  lands  of  East  Carolina.  The  child 
of  the  forest  was  numerically  stronger,  but  the  white  settler 
was  by  Destiny  destined  to  be  victor. 

The  Tuscaroras,  of  the  blood  of  the  Iroquois,  near  kin 
to  the  great  Five  Nations  of  the  north,  mustered  over  twelve 
hundred  braves — brave  and  determined — they  challenged 
Destiny.  When  the  runners  came  in  and  reported  that 
South  Carolina  had  sent  assistance  of  one  hundred  whites 
and  four  hundred  Indians,  and  that  Long  Knife  was  to  head 
the  attack  on  the  fort,  and  that  Colonel  Pollock  had  been 
unanimously  elected  president  and  commander-in-chief  of 
the  North  Carolina  forces,  and  had  been  given  unlimited 
control,  they  at  once  realized  that  a  serious  problem  con- 
fronted them.  It  resolved  itself  into  the  fact  that  they  had 
to  fight. 

A  renegade  white  man  came  in  and  told  them  that  a  large 
stockade  had  been  ordered  to  be  built  by  the  whites  on  the 
banks  of  the  Neuse  near  by  New  Bern ;  that  a  cattle  corral 
was  under  construction;  that  provisions  and  ammunition 
were  being  hurried  to  this  great  fort  of  the  whites;  that  a 
large  flat  and  many  small  boats  were  under  way,  and  men 
were  daily  caulking  and  pitching  them.  Negroes  were 
pressed  to  be  flat-men. 

Orders  were  read  from  the  commander-in-chief,  in  his 
hearing,  to  Captain  Bryan  that  he  must  advance  his  lines, 


Meeting  of  Chiefs  at  Fort  Nohoroco  77 

that  the  patrols  must  be  encouraged  to  fight  Indians  any 
and  everywhere  when  met. 

Two  splendid  schooners  had  cast  anchor  near  the  side 
of  the  fort  to  carry  ammunition  and  provisions  up  the 
river  when  the  advance  was  ordered.  Doctor  Guion  was 
busy  getting  medicines  and  necessary  surgical  supplies. 

Different  tribes  have  different  preferences  for  their 
camp  grounds.  The  women,  as  a  rule,  select  the  spot,  and 
oftentimes  two  women  fight  over  a  specially  good  place. 
The  men  never  interfere  with  the  womenfolks'  disputes. 
Some  prefer  a  thicket,  some  an  open  camp  near  timber, 
while  others  must  pitch  their  tepee  on  top  of  a  hill.  A 
hunting  party  chooses  ground  quite  dissimilar  from  a  band 
of  warriors  on  a  march  against  the  enemy.  "Squaw-men" 
are  despised  by  the  men  and  by  the  women.  An  Indian 
suspects  every  stranger,  but  with  the  chief's  permission  one 
is  safe  until  he  gets  a  mile  or  so  away,  and  then  a  brave 
will  scalp  a  paleface  with  whom  he  was  friendly  an  hour 
ago.  The  Par-fleshe  trunks  hold  all  the  dried  meat,  and  a 
kettle  and  a  water  pail  is  about  all  the  women  want  to  cook 
in.  The  women  as  a  rule  manage  the  pack  ponies  and  the 
dogs  when  traveling. 

The  Indians  have  fast  days  somewhat  like  the  Hebrews. 
They  have  no  regular  hours  for  eating,  and  when  the  pot  is 
lifted  and  becomes  cool  all  the  lodge  eats  to  their  fill,  one 
meal  a  day.  A  hungry  buck  usually  hides  away  easily 
seven  pounds  of  buffalo  or  deer  meat.  The  young  women 
rope  themselves  carefully  before  going  alone  in  the  woods, 
to  protect  themselves  from  the  rude  advances  of  the  bucks. 
The  Indian  has  no  sheriff,  no  jail,  no  school,  no  peni- 
tentiary. 

The  tepee,  when  firmly  set,  cannot  be  blown  down.  In 
winter  a  fire  is  built  in  the  center;  the  smoke  escapes 
through  the  top  opening.  All  the  family  sleep  in  one 
wigwam.  The  wick-up  is  a  makeshift,  a  sleeping  place  on 
hunts  or  marching.     No  matter  how  tired,  no  matter  how 


78  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

pressing  the  necessities  of  advance  or  retreat,  the  Indian 
never  sleeps  in  the  open.  If  but  one  blanket,  he  will  put 
it  over  a  frame-work  and  sleep  under  it.  If  asked  why, 
the  Indian  at  once  replies,  "No  good  to  sleep  out."  A 
wick-up  is  much  like  a  dog-kennel,  and  about  as  large.  If 
he  can  get  in  it  he  can  sleep  in  it.     (See  notes.) 

Boys  and  girls  keep  apart  after  six  years  old,  and  girls 
marry  at  eleven  or  twelve,  and  the  women  who  mother 
nearly  all  boys  are  courted  by  many.  They  know  nothing 
of  right  and  wrong,  only  as  the  old  men  settle  things  for 
them.  The  tribe  of  braves  that  demand  of  their  squaws  a 
higher,  better  life,  the  demand  is  acquiesced  in;  but  those 
who  let  the  women  abandon  themselves  as  they  please 
become  low,  coarse  and  without  ambition  for  a  cleaner, 
chaster  existence.  As  the  male  raises  the  standard,  so  the 
female  measures  up  to  it. 

The  Tuscaroras  and  Cores  were  warlike  tribes  of  Iro- 
quois. The  Algonquin  dialect  could  be  heard  with  the 
Mattamuskeet  and  Hatteras  tribes.  The  old  men  ruled  in 
the  councils,  and  the  young  men  carried  out  what  the 
seniors  considered  the  best  to  do.  The  young  men  and 
women  are  not  allowed  in  important  meetings. 

Indian  women  are  supposed  to  have  but  four  senses,  the 
Caucasian  five,  and  the  Gypsy  six.  Such  is  man's  estimate 
of  the  gentler  sex,  the  so-called  weaker,  kinder  vessels. 

The  Indian  has  not  studied  the  sciences  and  the  arts,  yet 
he  needs  no  midnight  sun  to  light  up  his  pathway  if  com- 
pelled to  travel  in  the  darkness;  and,  knowing  no  Scriptures 
as  the  white  man  understands  it,  he  bows  and  prays  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  meets  death  without  fear  or  tremor. 

The  meeting  of  the  restless  Tuscaroras  was  of  vital  in- 
terest. Where  shall  the  fort  be?  Where  shall  we  get  our 
water,  the  vital  fluid,  and  a  fort  built  where  they  would 
have  that  advantage. 

The  long-headed,  the  wise  leaders  of  the  lodge  were  in 
session.     One  issue  was  up  and  would  not  down,  "What 


Meeting  of  Chiefs  at  Fort  Nohoroco  79 

shall  we  do  to  uproot  and  destroy  the  growth  and  power  of 
the  paleface?"  King  Blount  was  distrusted  by  the  white 
race,  feared  and  dreaded  by  the  Indians;  he  was  courted 
for  his  popularity  and  for  the  weight  and  number  of  his 
braves. 

There  were  about  fifty  tribes  of  Indians  in  North  Caro- 
lina. The  Cores,  the  Pamlicoes,  the  Cotechneys,  the  Mat- 
tamuskeets,  the  Chowans,  the  Pungoes  and  Hatteras  Indians 
were  all  in  full  accord  and  determined  on  rapine  and  war. 
At  the  conclave  there  came  braves  from  the  Five  Nations 
to  advise  and  carry  back  northward  the  final  decisions  of 
the  braves  of  the  south.  The  council  took  under  consider- 
ation the  proposition  of  Black  Wolf,  of  Chaon  Neck,  to  go 
away  from  the  river  creek  and  build  a  fort.  King  Hancock 
supported  Black  Wolf,  that  the  whites  had  superior  water 
craft,  and  if  they  had  to  escape  that  it  would  be  easier  away 
from  the  watercourse,  that  the  woods  would  be  their  safest 
shelter. 

King  Taylor,  or  Enugunere,  stood  for  a  stand  by  the 
flowing  waters,  that  a  water  famine  would  be  impossible, 
but  subway  wells  might  go  dry,  and  he  pooh-poohed  the 
idea  of  having  to  fly.  Green  Turtle,  or  Colserasea,  well 
advanced  in  years  and  a  great  medicine  man,  shook  his 
bells,  looked  wroth  and  grave.  He  spoke:  "The  red  man 
does  best  in  the  forest.  I  fear  forts,  but  it  is  of  far-reach- 
ing importance  to  get  away  from  the  water's  edge.  I  stand 
up  and  pledge  my  life  that  Full  Moon  can  find  us  water 
plentifully.  He  can  infallibly  locate  an  underground  cur- 
rent, a  supply  perennial.  The  palefaces  have  little  and 
big  boats,  little  and  big  guns,  and  it  is  far  best  to  be  where 
we  can  fight  to  where  we  can  fly.  I  can  see  the  clouds  full 
of  chariots  and  the  young  moon  is  full  of  blood." 

After  much  discussion,  late  into  the  night,  it  was  decided 
to  set  aside  men  to  select  a  site,  and  for  Full  Moon  to  find 
the  water  supply.  Green  Turtle,  the  wisest  and  the  bravest, 
advised  to  detail  two  hundred  men  to  go  to  the  place  de- 


80  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

cided  upon  for  the  fort  and  be  under  the  orders  of  Full 
Moon.  In  ten  days  a  tunnel  would  be  sunk,  water  found, 
and  the  fort  going  forward  to  completion.  Needle  Eye 
positively  agreed  with  Green  Turtle,  and  agreed  to  the 
necessity  of  immediate  action,  that  in  ten  days  the  tunnel 
would  be  complete,  and  split  trees  uphold  the  upper  crust 
of  earth,  that  rooms  on  the  side  of  the  tunnel  be  excavated 
for  provisions,  for  prisoners,  and  for  the  wounded. 

The  sages  of  the  Five  Nations  gave  as  their  opinion  that 
Black  Wolf  and  Green  Turtle  had  the  situation  properly  in 
view. 


XIV 


THE  WATER  FIND  AND  PROVISIONS  OF  NAHUCKY  FORT 

"The  hour's  noiv  come, 
The  very  minute  bids  thee  ope  thine  ear; 
Obey  and  be  attentive." 

This  gift  of  finding  water  is,  as  the  gift  of  song,  of  calcu- 
lation, acuteness  of  vision  and  smell,  tenacity  of  memory, 
strength  of  arm  and  Caesarean  mastery.  It  consisted  of 
intensity  of  interest,  bringing  into  abnormal  activity  the 
relativity  of  the  senses;  the  condensing  of  the  attention  so 
as  to  take  up  and  correctly  estimate  and  correlate  the 
water-find  murmurs.  The  conductivity  of  sound-noises 
produced  by  certain  conditions  become  audible  from  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  to  the  earth's  surface.  Full  Moon  was 
wonderfully  gifted  with  the  sense  of  hearing,  and  he  was 
always  first  to  hear  the  timid  step  of  the  doe  or  the  soft 
tread  of  the  prowling  panther. 

It  was  determined  that  the  fort  was  to  be  strongly  built 
and  that  the  white  race  was  to  be  exterminated.  Now  for 
victualizing,  getting  stores  in  for  a  siege,  if  it  came  to  be  a 
necessity.  The  fort  was  to  be  their  base  of  supplies  and 
their  refuge  when  hard  pressed  by  the  enemy. 

Full  Moon  was  a  taciturn  red  man,  straight,  active,  small- 
eyed  and  beardless,  and  he  had  the  air  of  one  full  of  rest- 
lessness. He  was  no  brave;  he  feared  death  and  avoided 
danger;  but  was  looked  upon  as  one  gifted  by  the  Great 
Spirit.  At  a  signal  from  Green  Turtle  he  drew  away  from 
the  crowd.  He  was  much  excited.  He  commenced  to  crawl 
over  the  space  designated,  and  then  flattened  himself  with 
ear  to   the   ground,   and   moved   here   and   there   slowly, 

6  81 


82  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

watching  intently  his  divining  rod.  He  was  seen  to  wrap 
his  head  completely  up  and  flatten  himself  out.  He  quickly 
arose  and  declared  with  great  agitation  of  manner  that 
there  was  a  strong  flow  of  water  about  twenty  feet  below. 
He  trembled,  his  heart  was  in  his  work,  his  nerves  were  all 
afire.  He  then  drove  a  stake  and  carefully  marked  the 
route  of  the  tunnel  with  his  rod.  The  water-find  was  at  the 
roots  of  an  immense  red  oak  tree,  and  he  said  that  the  oak 
drew  moisture  from  that  flow. 

The  Indians  went  earnestly  to  work,  and  in  seven  days 
the  tunnel  was  completed  and  the  water  flow  was  found  to 
be  steady,  full  and  free,  on  a  gravel  bed,  and  the  tempera- 
ture was  cold.  Full  Moon  was  made  to  feel  his  importance 
by  grunts,  pats  and  "how-hows,"  and  like  unto  Copernicus 
and  Galileo,  he  was  gifted  beyond  his  fellows.  In  acute- 
ness  of  hearing,  in  locating  subterranean  currents,  no  man 
of  the  tribe  compared  with  him.  The  Roman  could  point 
with  pride  to  his  viaduct  and  the  Indian  stoically  stood  by 
his  tunnel.  The  forked  hazel  was  so  charged  with  his 
intensity  of  feeling  that  it  responded  and  exactly  located 
the  hidden  stream  as  if  a  divine  agency  was  directing  it. 
Augustus,  wrapped  about  with  his  trabea,  was  not  more 
envied  than  Full  Moon  and  his  divining  rod. 

Scientists  say  that  electricity  exists  between  the  clouds 
and  the  concealed  stream  of  water,  and  that  an  invisible 
current  is  continually  passing.  Hence,  a  person  heavily 
charged  with  electricity  comes  between  active,  positive,  and 
negative  forces.  The  power  will  drop  the  point  of  the 
divining  rod,  thus  indicating  the  point  where  the  stream  is. 
(See  notes.) 

Now  the  fort  was  the  cog,  and  the  fighting  chief  was  to 
be  set  aside  for  occupancy  and  defense,  and  Chocnek 
(Black  Wolf)  was  selected.  The  Indian  knew  that  a  hun- 
gry man  was  a  dissatisfied  man,  and  that  bread  and  water 
had  to  be  furnished  to  satisfy  the  best  inclined  of  their 


Water  and  Provisions  at  Nahucky  Fort  83 

tribes.  Full  Moon  had  furnished  water,  now  barrels  of 
acorns  and  bushels  of  chestnuts  and  corn  and  rice  in  abun- 
dance must  be  provided. 

In  every  nationality  of  men,  from  Joseph  unto  this  day, 
there  are  men  endowed  especially  to  meet  this  particular 
necessity.  Stores  of  bone-pointed  arrows,  powder  and  ball 
purchased  from  Virginia  traders,  were  with  due  care 
housed  in  the  deep  dugout  cavern  leading  down  to  the  clear 
water  current.  In  thirty  days  a  formidable  double  stock- 
ade was  built,  rooms  made  in  the  tunnel  for  storage,  and 
victuals  in  large  quantities.  For  a  hundred  miles  up  the 
Neuse  provisions  had  been  secured,  and  the  white  settlers 
had  not  only  been  robbed,  but  murdered  and  women  rav- 
ished and  brought  to  the  fort  as  hostages  and  made  servants 
and  cooks. 

Terror  for  many  miles  up  and  down  the  Trent  and  Con- 
tentnea  had  been  struck  in  the  hearts  of  the  white  settlers, 
and  many  hurriedly  moved  nearer  to  Edenton  for  better 
protection.  No  quarter  was  given;  none  asked.  Several 
thousands  of  Indians  with  white  renegades  between  Virginia 
and  South  Carolina  had  to  be  watched,  fought,  and  over- 
reached. 

Their  fort  was  roughly  constructed,  bastions  and  rideaus 
properly  located,  and  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  braves 
under  Green  Turtle  had  done  their  work  well.  Trees  for 
a  hundred  yards  had  been  felled  all  around  the  fort.  The 
three  trees  left  in  the  fort  were  sweet  gum,  cedar  and  red 
oak,  and  they  were  utilized  as  towers. 

The  cause  of  the  white  man  looked  lost.  The  obstacles 
for  him  to  overcome  were  formidable.  Not  only  Indians 
were  implacable  in  their  hate  and  relentless  in  their  slaugh- 
ter, there  were  also  dissensions  in  the  Colony  among  the 
whites  that  seemed  to  be  insurmountable. 

A  great  feast  was  to  be  held  at  the  fort,  plans  to  be  made 
for  the  future,  and  for  the  early  extermination  of  the  white 


84  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

race  in  Carolina.  The  northern  tribes  from  New  York 
were  to  send  assistance,  for  each  tribe  visited  at  will  the 
sections  from  the  Connecticut  to  the  Trent.  The  Pamun- 
keys  had  promised  to  aid.  The  Chowans  were  to  secretly 
lend  a  helping  hand,  and  the  Meherrins  had  agreed  as  soon 
as  practicable  to  take  arms  and  commence  the  slaughter  of 
the  settlers  in  Bertie  and  surrounding  territory.  In  the 
midst  of  their  jubilee  a  scout  came  in  and  gave  the  news 
that  Governor  Hyde  had  died  and  that  the  palefaces  were 
badly  cast  down  over  his  death,  and  for  a  moment  only 
stayed  action  to  select  a  new  leader.  Every  Indian  re- 
joiced that  the  handsome  cousin  of  Queen  Anne  (Governor 
Hyde)  had  fallen  by  order  of  the  Great  Spirit,  that  now 
was  the  auspicious  time  for  the  extermination  of  the  whites. 
Bands  under  the  bravest  braves  were  ordered  to  go  forward 
to  the  work  at  once.  Soon  fire  and  smoke  could  be  seen 
ascending  where  the  settler  had  lived,  and  there  could  be 
heard  the  cry  of  women  with  bowels  ripped  open,  mur- 
dered and  maltreated,  and  the  infants'  brains  were  dashed 
out;  stock  driven  off  toward  the  fort,  and  disaster  and 
destruction  reigned  unchecked.  The  white  man's  fortune 
was  truly  at  low  ebb.  The  fourth  year  of  war  was  now  to 
be  met. 

Green  Turtle,  Yamoissee  of  South  Carolina,  and  Blue 
Fox  of  Virginia,  with  Full  Moon  and  Black  Wolf,  were  left 
to  look  after  the  fort,  and  a  dozen  braves  came  in  every 
night  from  different  sections  to  report  to  Green  Turtle  and 
Black  Wolf. 

News  came  at  last  that  the  whites  had  elected  as  their 
leader  Colonel  Pollock,  or,  as  the  Indians  called  him, 
"Rock  Heart,"  and  that  he  and  Colonel  Moore,  called 
"Long  Knife,"  from  South  Carolina,  were  moving  forward 
on  the  fort.  Instantly  runners  were  sent  out  in  every  direc- 
tion to  give  information  to  the  several  bands  to  take  warn- 
ing and  to  fall  back  slowly  toward  the  fort  and  watch  de- 


Water  and  Provisions  at  Nahucky  Fort  85 

velopments.  Spotted  Crow  reported  that  King  Blount  had 
been  seen  with  Rock  Heart.  At  once  it  was  made  known  to 
every  camp  fire  that  King  Blount  was  to  be  watched.  A 
Santee  runner  came  in  and  informed  Yamoissee  that 
Colonel  Moore  and  his  men  were  past  Wilmington  to  unite 
with  the  North  Carolina  forces.  The  Indians  could  con- 
front them  with  many  braves,  tried  and  true.  Blue  Fox, 
the  medicine  man  of  Virginia,  bewailed  the  fact  that  the 
Roanokes  had  not  come.  Yamoissee,  the  medicine  man  of 
South  Carolina,  still  had  hopes  of  help  from  the  Santees. 
The  Tuscaroras,  represented  by  Green  Turtle,  held  finally 
to  it  that  the  Meherrins  and  Chowans  would  in  time  secretly 
send  assistance. 

Long  Knife  and  his  men  and  Rock  Heart  and  his  men 
were  steadily  moving  toward  the  fort.  The  Indian  chiefs 
saw  plainly  that  when  the  palefaces  united  their  several 
forces  they  would  present  a  very  serious  problem  before 
the  council  of  the  chiefs  for  consideration.  The  white 
leaders  the  Indians  knew  well.  They  had  positive  knowl- 
edge that  they  were  largely  dependent  upon  "friendly" 
allies.  Although  badly  needed,  a  force  had  to  be  left 
along  the  long  line  from  north  of  Edenton  to  south  of  New 
Bern  to  defend  the  women  and  children  from  rambling 
bands. 

Sharp  fighting  was  beginning  to  take  place  miles  away 
east  and  south  of  the  fort.  The  scouts  from  both  sides 
now  touched,  and  combats  happened  more  or  less  daily. 
The  zip  of  the  rifle  ball,  the  twang  of  the  bow  and  the  whiz 
of  the  deadly  arrow  were  felt  and  heard  by  the  advancing 
whites.  Spotted  Crow,  the  wily,  had  been  sent  to  stir  up 
the  Mattamuskeets,  Pungoes  and  Pamlicoes,  the  Hatteras, 
and  then  visit  the  Chowans.  The  Indians  recognized  the 
significance  of  the  cry,  "Fire  and  sword!"  They  knew  that 
they  had  given  the  whites  the  tomahawk  and  fire  for  the 
last  three  years,  late  and  early,  to  old  and  young.  The 
dreaded  Rock  Heart  and  Long  Knife  they  knew  to  be  watch- 


86  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

ful,  uncompromising  and  resourceful  commanders.  They 
expected  the  fiercest  attack  from  the  east,  for  the  white 
settlers  in  the  east  and  their  families  had  suffered  most  at 
their  hands,  and  they  were  fighting  for  their  homes,  their 
wives,  and  their  children. 

Green  Turtle,  Black  Wolf,  Big  Bear  and  Crow  Foot  held  a 
private  consultation  under  the  great  red  oak.  Green  Turtle 
advised  that  all  the  braves  be  led  at  once  against  Long 
Knife,  and  his  defeat  would  be  certain  by  attacking  him 
suddenly,  by  flank  and  rear,  before  Rock  Heart  could  hear 
of  it  and  get  his  men  up.  Black  Wolf  asked,  Why  not 
attack  Rock  Heart?  he  was  much  nearer  the  fort.  Green 
Turtle  replied  that  that  was  quite  a  different  proposition; 
that  if  Rock  Heart  was  hard  pressed  he  could  rally  in  the 
strong  fort  that  he  had  built;  that  he  had  sentries  every- 
where, and  he  had  out  in  his  front  a  well  officered  force, 
and  his  main  body  slept  in  the  stockade  at  night;  that  it 
was  impossible  to  surprise  him;  that  the  cannon  on  the 
schooners  would  help  to  beat  them  off;  that  Rock  Heart  was 
only  waiting  for  Long  Knife  to  get  clear,  and  then  he  would 
advance  and  their  forces  would  unite,  and  that  all  would 
be  lost  if  they  remained  in  the  fort  and  surrendered. 

Black  Wolf  hotly  denied  Green  Turtle.  He  said :  "We 
are  in  a  strong  fort,  plenty  to  eat,  and  a  large  force  of 
braves  to  do  battle.  Spotted  Crow  will  stir  up  our  friends, 
the  whites  are  sick  over  the  long  war,  and  Rock  Heart  has 
grown  old.  Long  Knife  is  far  from  his  base,  and  every- 
thing is  in  our  favor.  We  must  fight  it  out  right  here. 
No  leave — we  must  win  here  or  die  here.  Our  fort  is  full 
of  fighters." 

Black  Wolf  held  that  it  would  be  largely  Indians  against 
Indians;  that  the  whites  were  few;  that  the  trusty  men  had 
to  be  left  to  guard  the  scarcely,  sparsely  settled  section 
from  the  marauding  northern  Indians  under  Yellow  Jacket, 
and  that  Wild  Dog  and  his  half  breeds  were  stealing  and 


Water  and  Provisions  at  Nahucky  Fort  87 

burning  and  were  carrying  off  women  from  Chocowinity 
to  Wilkinson's  Point;  that  the  Quakers  kept  up  dissensions; 
that  Virginia  would  not  send  a  man  on  this  side  of  the 
dividing  line,  and  all  knew  that  Long  Knife's  men  were 
leaving  him,  going  back  home,  and  that  over  two  hundred 
braves  under  Flying  Squirrel  had  come  to  the  help  of  the 
Tuscaroras.  Green  Turtle  stood  his  ground  firmly.  He 
replied:  "I  have  seen  five  and  seventy  winters.  My  war 
belt  shows  as  many  scalps  as  Black  Wolf's.  Black  Wolf's 
judgment  is  bad.  He  is  a  great  brave  only.  I  tell  you  to 
drive  back  Long  Knife.  He  has  no  fort,  he  is  in  the  open, 
his  men  are  foreigners.  That  is  our  only  safety.  I  shall 
die  with  my  people.  I  am  as  much  brave  as  Black  Wolf. 
I  pray  that  the  Great  Spirit  will  direct  Spotted  Crow,  and 
that  a  strong  fighting  band  of  Chowans  and  Pamlicoes  will 
come  to  us,  or  strike  the  eastern  palefaces  in  the  rear." 

Full  Moon  and  Little  Robin  overheard  this  heated  dis- 
cussion, and  they,  believing  in  the  f oresightedness  of  Green 
Turtle,  the  next  night  slipped  out  of  the  fort  and  made  their 
way  to  the  settlement  of  the  Meherrin  Indians.  They  were 
flying  from  the  two  forces  coming,  one  under  an  old  man 
that  was  sleepless,  and  one  under  a  younger  man  that  was 
tireless. 

The  wisdom  of  the  Indian  will  some  day  be  recognized 
more  than  it  is  today.  He  knew  that  a  hungry,  thirsty  man 
or  beast  becomes  dissatisfied.  Full  Moon  had  found  water, 
and  now  the  stockade  and  fort  had  in  thirty  days  become  a 
formidable  structure  for  defense.  It  was  finished.  Where 
did  the  Indian  get  his  knowledge  of  fort  building?  Where 
did  he  get  his  eloquence?  Where  did  he  get  his  gift,  the 
sense  of  direction?  Rooms  were  built  in  the  stockade 
tunnel  for  provisions  and  all  kinds  of  stores,  and  a  place 
for  the  wounded.  Here  hostages  and  servants  were  safely 
kept,  and  here  a  limpid  stream  flowed  abundantly.  For  a 
hundred  miles  up  and  down  the  Neuse  the  wily  Indian  had 
stolen,  robbed,  ravished  and  murdered  the  lone  white  set- 


88  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

tiers.  Terror  for  miles  up  the  Trent  and  to  far-away  Cape 
Fear  was  felt  in  the  straggling  homes  of  the  palefaces. 
Without  any  warning,  men,  women  and  children  were 
butchered,  and  every  usable  substance  was  borne  away  to 
fill  up  the  storeroom  in  their  fort,  Nohoroco  or  Nahucky. 
From  the  Contentnea  to  Bertie,  from  Bertie  to  Mattamus- 
keet,  the  word  went,  "All  things  are  now  ready." 

Small  bands  were  sent  out  to  burn  and  slay,  and  the  re- 
sistance since  the  fight  at  Barnwell  had  been  so  slight  that 
they  were  elated  with  hope  and  believed  that  deadly  work 
could  be  done  before  any  organized  resistance  could  be 
consolidated  and  brought  to  bear  against  them.  They  felt 
perfectly  secure.  Why  not?  They  had  swept  the  woods 
with  fire  and  tomahawk;  they  had  their  big  "pen"  filled  with 
hogs  and  cattle ;  they  had  their  storerooms  packed,  and  they 
had  leaders  of  wisdom,  bravery  and  cunning.  Black  Wolf, 
Green  Turtle,  Mad  Calf  and  Hancock,  and  others  that  had 
often  fought  the  white  man,  and  seldom  ever  been  beaten 
by  him.  One  of  the  greatest  pleasures  of  their  life  was 
now  denied  them,  and  that  they  were  restive  under.  It  was 
being  deprived  of  the  society  of  their  women.  The  Indian 
woman  was  a  power  in  camp.  She  had  many  beaux.  She 
had  inalienable  rights,  such  as  the  right  of  changing  her 
husband  if  he  was  too  overbearing  to  her;  she  had  the  right 
to  do  as  she  pleased  when  night  came  and  the  tom-tom 
sounded.  No  work;  only  song  and  dance  at  night.  She 
knew  the  fury  of  the  white  man  was  not  leveled  against  her. 
With  Indians,  as  with  the  Mongolian  and  the  Caucasian,  a 
man  feels  lonely  and  ill  at  ease  if  deprived  of  the  comfort 
and  presence  of  woman.  The  Indians  innately  observe  in 
thought  and  act  the  Salic  law,  yet  the  Indian  woman  exer- 
cises an  influence  both  directly  and  reflexly  upon  her  war- 
rior mate.  Her  shout  of  approval  was  coveted,  her  laugh 
of  derision  dreaded. 

Distance  by  Indians  on  water  is  computed  by  pipes.  One 
pipe  is  the  distance  they  can  paddle  in  the  interval  between 


Water  and  Provisions  at  Nahucky  Fort  89 

the  haltings  they  are  allowed  to  make  in  order  to  fill  up 
and  smoke.  The  charms  of  life  to  the  red  man  of  the 
forest  are  courting,  boating,  trapping,  hunting,  and  smok- 
ing. Now  all  these  he  is  deprived  of  except  his  pipe,  for 
the  orders  are  to  rally  to  the  stockade,  keep  himself  ready 
for  the  coming  war-whoop  of  the  braves,  and  the  battle-cry 
of  the  whites  that  will  intermingle  in  the  sound  of  deadly 
strife. 


XV 


THE  ADVANCE  TO  MEET  MOORE 

"Make  all  our  trumpets  speak;  give  them  all  breath, 
Those  clamorous  harbingers  of  blood  and  death." 

The  hourly  need  of  war  material  was  paramount;  it 
must  be  had  and  had  quickly,  the  urgency  was  great.  The 
commander-in-chief  dispatched  to  Charleston  two  of  the 
fastest  sailing  vessels.  He  sailed  to  the  West  Indies  two 
of  his  own  best  schooners,  and  every  trading  post,  every 
owner  that  could  contribute  to  the  general  good  owning 
military  assets  was  impressed  (horses,  cattle,  hogs,  oils, 
salt  fish,  duffels,  and  vehicles) .  In  a  short  time  the  several 
craft  returned  and  brought  powder  and  balls,  small  arms, 
medicines,  breadstuffs,  blankets,  and  shoes,  coffee  and 
sugar,  bacon  and  salt,  rum  and  tobacco.  At  Bath  the 
vessels  rode  at  anchor,  awaiting  orders. 

The  people  and  the  trade  knew  the  man,  and  the  man 
confidently  and  successfully  appealed  to  the  merchants 
and  the  people.  Word  went  far  and  near  into  the  settle- 
ments that  provisions  and  arms  had  come,  that  the  white 
man  was  getting  ready  for  another  standup  fight  with  the 
redskins,  killers  of  women  and  children.  The  most  ex- 
posed settlers  were  sent  for  to  bring  their  families  to  New 
Bern,  that  they  would  be  cared  for,  so  the  men  could  join 
the  ranks  now  forming  for  battle.  The  corral  was  fairly 
filled  with  beeves  and  pigs,  and  the  Neuse  gave  them  needed 
water.  New  Bern  in  infancy  was  willing  to  shield  and 
assist  the  distressed,  the  hungry  white  brother. 

When  all  the  camp  was  resting,  the  guards  walking  their 
rounds  outside  the  well-built  stockade  which  surrounded 

90 


The  Advance  to  Meet  Moore  91 

the  large  fort,  portholed,  scouts  brought  in  a  strange  man 
representing  himself  to  be  one  of  Colonel  Moore's  men, 
that  he  had  made  his  way  through  the  coast  land  with  orders 
to  find  the  North  Carolina  forces.  He  was  carried  before 
old  Captain  Oliver,  and  he  gave  an  account  of  himself  and 
handed  the  captain  a  scrip  that  he  had  concealed  upon  his 
person.  He  was  given  a  substantial  supper  and  a  bunk 
to  sleep  upon. 

Two  trusty  Indians,  Old  Yellow  Hammer  and  Bent  Knee, 
were  ordered  to  go  up  the  Trent  River  and  find  a  way 
toward  Wilmington  and  get  with  Colonel  Moore  and  "hand 
him  this  message."  Two  of  the  Neuse  River  guards,  Joel 
Croom  and  Jerry  Lawson,  were  ordered  to  proceed  up  the 
Neuse  to  Leonati  crossing  (Atkins),  and  then  take  trail  for 
Wilmington,  find  Colonel  Moore,  and  tell  him  the  meet  of 
the  two  forces  would  be  at  the  Neuse  crossing,  that  all  was 
ready. 

Forty  "friendlies"  under  Bee  Wing  were  sent  across  the 
Neuse  to  patrol  up  and  down  the  river,  and  scouts  were  out 
keeping  up  with  every  movement  of  the  Indians.  The 
large  Indian  village  at  Fort  Barnwell  (Old  Eagle  Nest)  was 
deserted  except  by  the  very  old  men,  squaws  and  little  chil- 
dren and  their  many  dogs.      (See  notes.) 

The  old  Indians  were  dendrologists,  expert  fishermen, 
wonderfully  conversant  with  tribal  history,  the  tides  and 
weather  forecasts;  their  manners  dignified,  their  conversa- 
tion scanty  and  pointed.  The  squaws  were  industrious  in 
the  daytime,  flirts  at  night;  the  children  apt  bird  trappers, 
turtle  catchers,  and  cunning  borrowers  when  no  one  was 
looking  at  them. 

That  the  several  Indian  tribes  had  acquired  a  new  confi- 
dence in  their  future  probable  conflicts  with  the  white  race 
was  unmistakably  manifest  in  their  manners  and  their  acts. 
They  reasoned,  one  tribe  with  another,  "Have  we  not  all  in 
all,  squared  up  against  the  settlers?  We  hold  our  hunting 
grounds.     We  have  killed  as  many  of  them  as  they  have 


92  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

of  us."  They  sat  around  their  fires  and  smoked  with  grim 
satisfaction  their  pipes  of  wild  valerian  and  hops,  mixed 
with  their  sun-cured  tobacco;  and  all  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren ate,  when  to  be  had,  ginseng,  gotten  from  the 
Catawbas. 

"Be  prodigal,  the  lamp  that  burns  by  night 
Dries  up  his  oil  to  lend  the  ivorld  his  light." 

The  Indians  knew  that  although  Fort  Barnwell  (Old 
Eagle  Nest)  had  been  given  up,  yet  their  loss  had  not  been 
great,  nor  had  the  punishment  threatened  been  unflinch- 
ingly inflicted  upon  them.  They  judged  that  a  fearful 
respect  for  their  tomahawks  and  night  torches  had  im- 
pressed the  whites  and  made  the  paleface  pray  for  peace  at 
any  price.  Their  dealings  with  the  settlers  had  quickened 
their  intellects,  sharpened  their  cunning,  blunted  their  trust- 
fulness, and  had  enkindled  in  their  savage  nature  a  world 
of  deadly  hate.  They  determined  to  carry  on  the  war,  to 
get  away  back  in  the  deep  woods,  so  as  to  draw  the  white 
man  far  from  his  home  and  from  help.  They  deemed  it 
wise  to  cross  over  and  put  the  Neuse  between  them  and 
any  assistance  that  might  come  from  South  Carolina. 

It  was  true  the  white  men  were  staggered  by  the  blows 
they  had  received,  and  the  endless  expense  of  blood  and 
property  that  this  Indian  war  was  involving  them  in,  but 
they  were  not  crushed.  The  women  of  the  Colony  bore  up 
bravely  under  the  fearful  stress  and  strain.  The  large, 
roomy  fort  at  New  Bern  was  completed  and  men  and  big 
boys  commenced  coming  in  by  twos  and  threes.  Some 
evil-minded  parties  had  gone  abroad  and  put  out  the  report 
that  nobody  would  respond  to  the  Governor's  appeal. 

Old  Captain  Oliver  shook  hands  warmly  with  the  new- 
comers, some  in  coonskin  caps,  with  powder  horns  and 
smooth-bore  guns.  But  best  of  all,  they  had  come  to  fight. 
The  drum  beat  night  and  morning,  the  little  cannon's  loud 
roar  at  sunset  aroused  enthusiasm.     Every  ear  was  listen- 


The  Advance  to  Meet  Moore  93 

ing  for  the  coming  of  the  commander-in-chief,  and  the  fire- 
side talk  was  when  the  great  Indian  fighter,  Colonel  Moore, 
would  be  heard  from.  Men  love  to  talk  of  battle,  the 
charge  and  the  rout.  The  few  officers  with  Captain  Oliver 
tactfully  and  firmly  instructed  the  men  as  to  their  duties, 
and  they  were  told  that  the  oldest  men  and  youngest  boys 
would  be  left  behind  to  guard  the  fort.  The  hoped-for  help 
was  yet  to  come,  the  night  was  yet  to  turn  to  day. 

And  now  came  from  Bath  glorious  news  for  the  settlers. 
The  vessels  had  weathered  the  cape  and  all  were  heavily 
loaded!  When  getting  to  Wilmington,  Moore  took  com- 
mand and  marched  as  rapidly  as  he  could  for  the  Neuse. 
The  commander-in-chief,  with  a  small  staff,  had  quietly 
ridden  into  the  camp  at  sundown.  The  officers  were  or- 
dered to  report  to  headquarters  at  early  candlelight.  All 
knew  a  strong  hand  had  come  to  direct  their  movements. 

"Gentlemen,  in  parting  remember  right  now,  North  Caro- 
lina faces  in  her  history  her  first  great  call.  Let  us  be 
unshakable  in  our  purpose  and  in  our  pursuit." 

The  two  sloops,  the  Polly  and  the  Scorpion,  and  several 
punts  and  the  "hospital  ship,"  were  riding  leisurely  the 
silver  sheened  Neuse.  The  little  flotilla  pleased  the  men; 
they  enjoyed  the  idea  that  now  provisions  and  ammunition 
were  amply  provided  for  the  advance;  that  a  rude  refuge, 
but  comfortable,  was  ready,  if  need  be,  in  which  they  would 
be  looked  after  by  surgeon  and  nurse. 

Bull  hides  protected  the  "hospital's"  sides  and  top.  In- 
dians and  negroes  were  detailed  to  load  and  unload  the 
boats.  A  dozen  pavises  had  been  rudely  finished  and  put 
aboard  to  be  used  before  the  gates  of  the  Indian  fort  at 
Nohoroco  (or  Nahucky).  Every  night  a  heavy  guard  on 
board  and  in  canoes  kept  watch  over  the  boats.  The  cannon 
and  the  coehorn  were  put  on  the  Polly  and  poleaxes  were 
placed  by  them  in  handy  reach.  Lieutenant  Winston  was 
in  command  of  all  the  boats  and  the  ammunition  stores. 

A  growing  confidence  sprang  up  among  the  men  that  they 


94  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

were  going  to  win  out  in  the  coming  fight.  Guy  Lanneau, 
the  South  Carolina  ranger,  was  reexamined  at  headquarters, 
and  the  aged  commander  determined  not  to  delay  the  ad- 
vance, trusting  that  the  two  Indians  or  that  Croom  and 
Lawson  had  reached  the  South  Carolinians.  He  believed 
it  best  to  boldly  advance,  it  would  enthuse  his  men  and 
create  surprise  in  the  enemy. 

The  long  roll  was  ordered  to  beat  at  sunrise.  The  men 
fell  in  promptly.  A  staff  officer  informed  them  that  the 
advance  was  to  be  made  to  meet  Colonel  Moore.  A  shout 
went  up;  the  fife  and  drum  struck  up  martially,  "Britons, 
strike  home,"  "Now  for  the  foe."  The  men  were  all 
aglow  with  expectancy.  Friendly  Indians  were  ordered 
well  in  front,  an  advance  guard  followed  after,  and  the 
main  force  took  up  the  trail,  and  the  little  flotilla  followed 
in  protective  distance.  About  fifteen  miles  from  New  Bern 
a  halt  was  ordered  for  rest  and  for  dinner. 

The  woodlands  were  fragrant  with  crabtree  blossoms,  the 
hickory's  yellow  tassels,  the  tulip's  buddings,  the  vines  of 
grape  with  sap  was  swelling  the  leaflets.  The  wild  cornel 
was  in  half-bloom,  and  the  jessamine  was  not  the  least 
noticeable  in  flowers  and  beauty.  The  piping  frog  hanging 
on  the  treeside  gave  out  shrill  notes,  and  the  chatter  of  the 
gray  squirrel  was  heard  from  the  high  oak  trees. 

The  men  felt  enthused  by  Nature,  and  their  blood  was 
aroused  thoroughly,  for  the  hunting  of  a  lion  is  more  inter- 
esting than  the  chasing  of  a  hare.  The  harrowing  scenes 
witnessed  by  the  troops  as  they  marched  up  the  riverside — 
burnt  homes,  skeletons  of  men  and  women,  children  bar- 
barously slaughtered  lying  by  the  wayside,  made  the  men 
demons.  Small  patches  left  partly  cultivated,  little  corn 
cribs  empty  or  torn  down — everywhere  desolation  and 
butchery. 

The  command  took  up  the  march  again.  About  an  hour 
before  sunset  a  patrol  reported   Indians  in  front.     The 


The  Advance  to  Meet  Moore  95 

advance  guard  and  flankers  pushed  forward  cautiously, 
touching  the  patrols.  Some  sharp  firing  was  heard  in  front, 
all  knew  a  fight  was  at  hand. 

Reinforcements  went  forward  and  fighting  in  earnest 
began.  Balls  and  arrows  came  with  murderous  intent 
from  many  Indians  behind  trees.  It  developed  into  a  run- 
ning fight  with  Black  Wolf  and  his  band  of  braves  for  two 
or  more  miles.  One  mortally  wounded  was  captured,  and 
he  informed  the  "friendlies"  that  great  bands  of  warriors 
were  gathered  near  a  big  fort,  about  a  day's  march  from 
Leonati  crossing  on  the  north  side  of  the  Neuse.  He  would 
not  tell  how  many  Black  Wolf  had  with  him. 

Three  wounded  whites  were  carried  to  the  floating  hos- 
pital. Continuing  the  forward  movement,  the  officers  were 
advised  to  go  among  the  men  and  tell  them  that  Colonel 
Moore  was  not  far  away.  "Be  of  good  cheer.  Our  friends 
so  brutally  murdered  must  be  avenged.  The  white  women 
held  now  by  the  Indians  must  be  released,  must  be  set  at 
liberty,  for  they  are  being  held  for  bestial  purposes." 

The  commander-in-chief  thought  it  prudent  to  give  orders 
that  when  the  camp  was  pitched  for  the  night  a  small  fort 
must  be  by  the  riverside,  constructed  of  felled  trees  and 
earth  works  (if  away  from  the  river  that  it  should  be  on 
the  best  site  for  a  rally  point  if  suddenly  attacked) ;  the 
flotilla  to  be  moored  near  by  for  protection.  The  small 
cannon  was  removed  from  the  sloop  for  tomorrow's  use. 
As  they  marched  along  wild  cattle  were  met  and  killed  and 
butchered  for  the  troops,  and  the  men  were  rewarded  who 
did  the  slaughtering. 

Near  noon  the  following  day  Mad  Calf  with  his  band 
commenced  a  stand-and-run  fight  that  made  the  march 
move  more  slowly  than  expected.  The  friendly  Indians 
were  ordered  to  flank  them,  and  the  whites  made  the  front 
attack.  Then  the  Indians  would  scamper,  and  then  stand 
and  fight.  The  small  cannon  was  ordered  to  open  on  them. 
The  roar  animated  the  white  men  and  frightened  the  red. 


96  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Colonel  Moore  was  about  five  miles  away  from  the  river. 
The  river  took  up  the  battle  sound,  and  through  the  woody 
spaces  of  the  southwest  the  resounding  cry  of  the  big  gun 
was  heard,  and  the  word  passed,  "They  are  fighting!" 
Men  clinched  their  teeth,  belts  were  tightened,  their  blood 
ran  madly  and  steps  were  quickened.  The  far-away  boom 
kept  calling  to  Palmetto  to  come,  hasten  to  the  help  of  her 
distressed  sister.  The  Colonel  sat  his  red  roan,  his  fight- 
ing blood  aroused,  his  soldier  spirit  ahungering  for  the 
conflict.  Coming  to  the  Neuse,  the  men  went  into  camp, 
and  Colonel  Moore  had  pickets  stationed,  and  with  a  guide 
found  his  way  to  the  North  Carolina  camp  about  midnight. 
The  command  became  aware  of  it  and  yelled  with  intense 
joy.  They  felt  now  that  with  South  Carolina  with  them, 
heart  to  heart,  they  could  and  would  overthrow  the  brave 
warriors  opposing  them. 

No  two  men  differed  more  than  the  commander-in-chief 
and  his  able  lieutenant,  Colonel  Moore.  One  was  growing 
old,  was  very  gray;  he  was  calm,  clear  visioned,  and  reso- 
lute. The  younger  man  was  full  of  military  ardor,  san- 
guine, ready  to  fight  on  the  spot  at  any  odds.  Both  had 
implicit  confidence  in  the  other.  The  two  states  fraternized 
easily.  The  Indians  "powpowed"  and  felt  the  power  in- 
tellectually and  racially  of  the  two  white  leaders  now 
commanding. 

The  crossing  of  the  Neuse  by  both  commands  was  easily 
effected  by  the  use  of  the  sloops  and  punts,  the  big  flat  and 
the  little  canoes.  The  Indians  fairly  raced  to  and  fro,  and 
showed  marvelous  skill  in  paddling,  turning  and  stopping 
the  boat.     The  horses  were  swum  over. 

A  body  of  "friendlies"  and  Captain  Maule's  company 
had  proceeded  and  examined  the  front  for  a  good  camping 
ground  for  the  night  upon  the  hills  about  a  mile  distant 
north.  The  object  of  the  attack  was  presumably  about 
fourteen  miles  away,  northwest,  upon  a  sandy  elevation, 


The  Advance  to  Meet  Moore  97 

and  about  a  mile  from  the  little  river  or  creek  lying  on  the 
left  of  the  fort.  Constant  and  heavy  skirmishing  was 
confidently  anticipated. 

Being  early  springtime,  the  nights  were  quite  cool,  and 
the  days  pleasant  and  lengthening.  Every  precaution  was 
taken  that  there  should  be  no  waste  of  men,  of  ammunition 
or  provisions.  The  commander-in-chief  thought  it  wise  to 
rest  upon  the  hills  north  of  the  Neuse  River  for  two  days, 
that  the  troops  might  become  used  to  each  other,  and  that 
he  and  Colonel  Moore  could  consult  with  leisure  as  to  an 
advance  or  an  attack.  Scouts  were  sent  out  in  every  direc- 
tion and  the  best  route  to  get  at  the  fort  was  determined 
after  mature  deliberation  over  the  several  reports  that  were 
brought  in. 

"Colonel  Moore,  all  of  our  men  are  brave  and  trusty, 
but  I  feel  quite  at  ease  when  Captain  Maule  is  in  charge 
of  the  advance." 

"Governor,  what  estimate  do  you  put  upon  the  Indian  as 
a  warrior?" 

"Candidly,  Colonel  Moore,  with  equal  training,  I  should 
place  them  with  the  best  soldiers  I  saw  in  the  service  while 
I  was  in  France." 

"From  the  scouts  we  would  infer  that  no  considerable 
stream  or  elevation  is  between  us  and  our  enemy, 
Governor?" 

"No.  God  willing,  Colonel  Moore,  let  us  advance  stead- 
ily, encamp  around  about  them,  and  strike  them  a  deadly 
blow  from  which  they  will  never  recover.  Colonel,  don't 
you  think  it  best  to  trench  around  them,  and  build  a  few 
small  forts  on  which  we  could  the  better  rally  and  repulse 
a  sudden  attack?" 

"Governor,  I  have  been  revolving  that  idea  over,  and  I 
deem  it  prudent  and  wise." 

The  commanding  officers  found  the  Indian  fort,  stockade 
and  redoubt  were  well  laid  off  and  compactly  built.  It 
commanded  their  respect,  their  serious  consideration.    The 


98  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

intrenchments  of  the  whites  were  at  once  commenced,  the 
miniature  forts,  north,  south,  east  and  west,  were  to  be 
pushed  forward.  The  whites  had  been  drawn  away  from 
their  base,  and  the  ways,  woods,  and  swamps  were  well 
known  to  the  Indians  and  but  little  known  to  the  settlers. 

There  was  an  eternal  hope  cherished  by  the  Indians  that 
many  braves  would  find  a  way  from  the  north  to  come  to 
their  assistance  by  attacking  the  whites  in  the  near-by  and 
carrying  on  a  bloody  crusade  on  the  coastland,  thus  com- 
pelling a  division  of  the  white  man's  forces  fronting  their 
fort. 

The  whites  prayed  that  Governor  Spottswood  would  ex- 
ercise due  vigilance  for  Virginia's  safety,  and  that  Governor 
Craven  they  felt  confident  would  firmly  hold  in  check  any 
open  movement  of  the  South  Carolina  Indians;  and  with 
God's  blessing  let  the  fight  between  the  white  and  the  red 
man  be  fought  to  a  finish,  and  right  now  let  the  morning 
light  break  or  a  deep  darkness  envelop  the  white  man's 
hopes  forever. 


XVI 


COUNCIL  OF  WAR 

"Thus  far  our  fortune  keeps  an  upward  course, 
But  in  the  midst  of  this  bright  shining  day 
I  spy  a  black  threatening  cloud." 

It  was  reasonably  expected  that  as  the  column  of  the 
whites  passed  in  his  front  Choenek  (or  Black  Wolf)  would 
most  likely  strike  at  the  exposed  left  flank.  Preparations 
had  been  made  for  that  emergency.  Colonel  Hecklefield 
had  been  ordered  to  hold  his  North  Carolinians  well  in 
hand  to  attack  the  Indians'  right  flank,  should  the  marching 
column  be  assailed.  As  it  turned  out,  both  sides  acted 
with  circumspection.  Only  slight  skirmishes  were  par- 
ticipated in  as  the  white  troops  steadily  filed  around  and 
about  the  fort.  The  left  rested  east,  the  right  was  in  full 
touch  with  the  Contentnea  watercourse. 

Two  hated  white  leaders  were  fronting  them,  Rock  Heart 
and  Long  Knife.  Swamp  Dog  and  Big  Bear  railed  against 
Black  Wolf  for  allowing  the  whites  to  get  lodgment  so  easy 
in  their  immediate  neighborhood.  To  vindicate  himself, 
and  to  show  he  was  not  indifferent  to  the  clamor  of  his 
competitors,  he  asked  that  a  council  be  called  to  pass  upon 
his  conduct.  He  stated  that  he  mistrusted  the  indifference 
manifested  by  the  whites,  that  consulting  with  Green  Turtle 
he  was  alive  to  the  fact  that  the  whites  had  the  potential 
influence  of  their  commander-in-chief;  that  they  had  Long 
Knife,  their  dreaded  enemy,  also  with  them,  and  that  an 
ambuscade  was  expected.  He  saw  nothing  but  deep-laid 
wiles,  and  that  he  had  steered  clear  of  them.  He  turned 
the  command  over  to  Black  Bear,  who  was  very  unpopular. 

99 


100  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

It  was  annoying  to  have  a  body  of  whites  and  revengeful 
Indians  quartered  south  and  east  of  them,  but  they  feared 
to  disapprove  the  conduct  of  Black  Wolf.  Loud  mutter- 
ings  were  soon  heard;  there  was  a  crisis  to  meet.  They 
needed  a  hard  fighter,  and  Black  Wolf  had  proven  himself 
to  be  a  hard  hater,  a  dempter,  and  a  hard  hitter  on  every 
occasion.  The  east  and  the  north  gates  were  to  be  doubly 
strengthened.     Black  Wolf  took  command  again. 

After  getting  in  front  of  the  stronghold  and  pickets  had 
been  placed  and  scouts  sent  out,  the  command  was  allowed 
to  refresh  themselves.  The  two  leading  officers  made  a 
careful  mental  survey  of  the  surroundings.  They  then 
reconnoitered  closely  the  size  and  situation  of  the  fort. 
That  night  around  the  camp  table,  with  map,  they  laid  out 
a  plan  of  attack;  certain  officers  to  attack  south  and  east, 
and  others  north  and  west.  The  signal  known  by  the  cap- 
tains when  a  general  attack  was  to  be  made  upon  all  sides 
was  at  the  firing  of  the  cannon  at  sunrise.  The  large  and 
the  small  cannon  were  placed  upon  a  hill  east.  A  messen- 
ger came  with  papers,  the  purport  of  which  was  that  a  large 
body  of  a  thousand  braves,  of  Chowans,  Pungoes,  Matta- 
muskeets  and  Hatteras  Indians,  were  gathering  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Pamlico  River  at  an  old  fort. 

"The  intent  is  assumed  to  be  to  attack  the  rear  of  the 
whites  under  the  Governor  while  Black  Wolf  attacks  in 
front.  Rather  serious  news,  gentlemen."  He  handed  the 
paper  to  Colonel  Moore.  Colonel  Moore  vehemently  ex- 
claimed, "My  heavens!  We  have  now  all  that  we  can  say 
grace  over,  and  to  have  a  thousand  more  red  devils  to 
meet — whew!  Our  hands,  for  a  fact,  will  be  full  to  over- 
flowing." Colonel  Hecklefield  quietly  remarked,  "We  must 
fight,  that's  all.     The  news  smells  of  a  graveyard  to  me." 

"Colonel  Moore,  you  are  ever  very  hopeful,  what  do 
you  think  is  best  to  do?" 

"Governor,  I  just  can't  think  to  save  me." 


Council  of  War  101 

"Colonel  Hecklefield,  what  course  would  you  advise  to 
be  pursued?" 

"Well,  Governor,  it  is  this.  Somebody  must  go  and 
meet  them — and  beat  them." 

"Gentlemen,  you  will  please  remain  seated." 

The  commander-in-chief  had  a  way  of  going  out  into  the 
cool  woods  and  communing  with  his  God.  He  knelt  down 
and  supplicated  devotedly.  While  standing  in  deep  thought 
thinking  of  the  seriousness  of  the  situation,  his  heart  was 
almost  broken  with  many  forebodings.  From  over  the 
Indian  stockade  could  be  heard  a  hilarious  noise,  the  tom- 
tom was  beating  and  "Yah-yah!"  rent  the  midnight  air. 
The  aged  listener  well  knew  what  it  meant.  An  Indian 
runner  had  found  his  way  from  the  Pamlico  into  the  fort, 
and  had  communicated  to  Black  Wolf  and  his  comrades 
the  news  that  a  thousand  braves  were  on  their  way  to  help 
them  in  the  racial  test  of  supremacy  in  East  Carolina. 

What  was  to  be  done?  Was  it  best  to  let  them  come 
and  fight  them,  or  to  hurriedly  go  and  meet  them,  and  beat 
them,  as  Hecklefield  suggested?  Was  it  safe  to  take  men 
from  the  front  of  the  Indian  fort  and  go  to  fight  Indians 
swarming  on  the  banks  of  the  Pamlico?  With  his  face 
clouded  with  anxiety,  he  returned  and  said,  "Gentlemen, 
it  is  best  for  me  to  go — it  is  our  fight.  Colonel  Moore  is 
our  neighbor  and  our  very  dear  friend,  but  it  would  not  be 
right  to  ask  him  to  take  up  this  burden." 

Calling  to  his  adjutant,  he  ordered  that  Captains  Bryan 
and  Kennedy  be  sent  to  him  without  delay,  and  that  Lieuten- 
ant Johnstone  be  ordered  to  select  ten  of  the  best  equipped 
men  of  the  Edenton  company  to  accompany  him  and  two 
trusty  Indians  to  go  along  as  runners.  "Colonel  Moore, 
we  have  marked  out  the  several  positions  and  advances, 
and  now,  trusting  to  God,  at  two  o'clock  we  take  up  the 
march  for  Pamlico  River."  Silently  one  hundred  and 
twenty  picked  men  and  officers  left  the  sleeping  camp  be- 


102  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

hind  them.  Colonel  Moore  had  instructions  to  strike  when 
he  thought  best,  to  batter  down  the  east  gate  with  his 
cannon,  and  to  keep  up  the  firing  on  the  fort  and  tunnel  and 
blow  down  the  walls  if  necessary  to  win. 

The  two  Indians  took  up  the  trail  eastward  and  noise- 
lessly the  whites  followed  in  their  wake. 


XVII 


THE  OLD  PAMLICO  STOCKADE 

"0  War,  thou  son  of  hell, 
Whom  the  angry  heavens  make  their  minister, 
Even  this  sight, 
My  heart  is  turned  to  stone." 

— Shakespeare. 

The  darkness  of  the  night,  the  uncertainty  of  the  adven- 
ture, the  treacherous  foe  they  had  to  deal  with,  the  remem- 
brance of  their  murdered  neighbors,  all  combined  were 
such  as  to  make  arise  in  each  man's  bosom  a  deep  anxiety 
for  his  own  personal  safety.  It  was  true  that  as  a  body 
they  were  men  inured  to  worry,  to  toil,  and  to  dangers; 
they  had  been  born  and  reared  in  a  day  of  continuous  hos- 
tilities; but  then,  men  are  but  human. 

Colonel  Pollock,  having  had  an  extensive  experience  in 
Carolina  as  to  customs  and  characters,  having  held  some 
of  the  most  important  offices  for  years,  thus  making  him 
acquainted  with  matters  of  law,  commerce,  and  war,  at 
several  epochal  periods  which  affected  the  welfare  of  the 
people,  he  could  but  more  readily  understand  the  immense 
importance  of  forging  ahead  and  striking  down  this  rear- 
ward danger.  He  knew  from  past  enterprises  that  a  few 
hours  often  decided  the  issue  for  victory  or  defeat.  It 
could  but  be  with  great  satisfaction  that  he  witnessed  the 
alacrity  of  the  captains  and  their  men  as  they  pressed 
onward  to  fight  the  foe.  The  love  of  home  and  loved  ones, 
the  burning  desire  to  avenge  the  butcheries  of  their  neigh- 
bors, made  them  firmly  united,  ready  to  come  to  blows 
with  their  bloody-minded  enemies.  In  silence  the  trail  was 
followed. 

103 


104  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

In  pressing  forward  to  the  Indians'  old  stockade  on  the 
Pamlico  a  half-breed  was  met,  and  he  told  them  just  about 
where  the  Indians  were.  Lieutenant  Lane  and  his  men 
were  thrown  well  in  front,  and  Lieutenant  Warren  was  to 
look  out  for  the  flankers.  About  midnight  Lieutenant 
Lane  sent  word  back  that  he  had  forced  them  to  their 
camp.  Very  soon  a  hoot  like  unto  an  owl  was  heard, 
and  then  two  hoots;  and  a  flood  of  arrows  warned  the 
whites  that  to  approach  was  to  fight.  Not  knowing  their 
number  nor  their  exact  position,  the  officer  in  command 
formed  his  men  into  a  hollow  square  and  ordered  the  com- 
mand to  advance  slowly  and  compactly  and  for  the  front 
to  keep  up  a  continuous  fire.  Hundreds  of  arrows  and  a 
few  shots  kept  coming.  About  daybreak  the  arrows  were 
fewer.  The  commanding  officer  ordered  forward  skirmish- 
ers and  they  hallooed  back,  "They  are  gone!  We've  got 
'em!"  All  rushed  forward.  The  dead  and  wounded  were 
left  behind.  The  badly  wounded  showed  no  signs  of  fear. 
It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  men  could  be  restrained  from 
shooting  all  of  the  wounded  Indians.  Provisions  were 
found  of  meat,  wild  turkeys,  ducks,  and  meal.  Scouts 
were  sent  at  once  up  and  down  the  river  bank  to  see  if  any 
Indians  were  hiding.  They  had  fled  with  precipitation. 
The  heads  of  Little  Bull,  Star  Feathers,  and  Silver  Wave 
were  cut  off,  wrapped  up  in  duffels,  and  carefully  swung 
across  the  pony.  They  were  to  be  thrown  over  into  the  fort 
at  Nohoroco  to  let  the  Indians  recognize  the  fact  that  no 
relief  was  coming.  All  except  sentinels  fell  down  and 
slept  three  hours.  Then,  after  a  hearty  breakfast,  all 
started  with  great  cheer  for  the  fort.  The  wounded  were 
placed  upon  stretchers  and  men  detailed  to  bear  them 
along. 

On  their  return  a  Mr.  Ava  Hinton  met  them  and  handed 
the  commander-in-chief  a  letter,  asking  him  to  come  at  once 
to  Edenton  on  matters  of  vital  importance,  to  meet  the 
council  that  would  convene  there.     He  at  once  turned  over 


The  Old  Pamlico  Stockade  105 

the  command  to  Captain  Bryan  and  hastened  to  Edenton. 
On  arriving  at  Edenton  and  meeting  the  board,  the  news 
filled  the  entire  body  with  hearty  rejoicings.  Mr.  Boyd 
remarked,  "Governor,  you  look  the  worse  for  wear.  Your 
official  duties  are  telling  on  you." 

"Yes,  sir,  you  must  remember  I  am  past  three  score,  and 
anxieties  and  exposure  make  me  not  so  robust  as  formerly." 

Mr.  Chervin  asked  if  he  did  not  think  one  more  sharp 
and  bloody  fight  would  make  the  Indians  sue  for  peace. 

"Yes,  and  it  is  fast  coming.  Colonel  Moore,  I  think, 
will  strike  at  the  first  opportunity  after  Bryan  reaches  his 
camp.  He  is  a  daring  man  and  an  accomplished  officer. 
I  would  be  glad,  gentlemen,  for  the  council  to  be  called  at 


once." 

Li  I 


'Governor,  allow  me  to  express  our  thankfulness  that 
you  have  been  spared,  that  your  old  wound  has  hindered 
you  but  little  in  your  marchings  and  exposures.  My  divin- 
ing thoughts  assure  me  of  your  ultimate  success.  Great 
Peter  claims  he  did  you  the  hurt." 

"That  happened  up  on  the  Cashie  River;  a  wandering 
band  from  the  Mohawk  Valley  under  Little  Beaver  induced 
Great  Peter  to  break  loose  and  join  them,  and  steal  and 
burn,  drive  off  cattle  and  hogs,  force  white  women  to  sub- 
mit to  their  attentions.  In  a  word,  deviltry  of  the  basest 
sort  was  practiced  by  them.  Something  had  to  be  done 
promptly  and  effectively." 

"Governor,  these  great  bands  from  New  York  and  Con- 
necticut should  be  compelled  to  stay  within  the  hunting 
grounds  of  Carolina  when  visiting  here;  for  our  white 
settlers  are  badly  scattered,  our  fighting  men  few." 

"Yes,  that  is  to  be  fondly,  prayerfully  hoped  for;  but 
really  our  proprietors  seem  to  have  deaf  ears  to  our  plead- 
ings for  better  laws,  better  arms  and  more  ammunition. 
(See  Records.)  We  must  keep  prepared  to  fight  off  not 
only  these  bands  spoken  of,  but  the  Indians  from  Virginia 
come  across  the  border  stealthily  and  harass  our  people. 


106  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Governor  Spottswood  is  appealed  to,  and  as  Virginia  is 
under  the  care  of  the  King  proper,  she  is  better  armed  than 
we  are  and  more  populous,  he  might  do  us  great  good  if  he 
would.  Now,  gentlemen,  time  presses;  call  our  meeting 
together  and  let  us  try  to  remedy  the  complaints.  What  is 
first  to  consider?" 

"Governor,  you  must  pardon  us,  but  in  all  conscience 
you  imperatively  need  meat  and  wine  and  a  few  hours  of 
solid  rest;  we  can  then  take  up  these  matters  of  state." 

"Thank  you,  gentlemen,  in  truth  I  am  much  jaded.  May 
it  please  you  to  show  me  my  room  and  my  bed." 


XVIII 


AT  EDENTON  COUNCIL 

"Be  great  in  act  as  you  have  been    in  thought. 

Threaten  the  threatener  and  outface  the  brow 

Of  bragging  honor." 

— King  John. 

The  assembly  of  the  council  early  next  morning  met  and 
found  confusion  rampant.  Present  were  Messrs.  Gales, 
Boyd,  Chervin,  and  Knight. 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I  have  come  at  your  urgent  solicita- 
tion.    What  is  the  trouble?" 

"The  Quakers  and  their  friends,  Governor,  are  badly 
disquieting  the  people  with  their  constant  harangue  that 
the  war  must  be  ended,  and  that  the  rights  of  the  people 
must  be  respected." 

"Awaiting  to  see  you  are  two  Indians.  They  wish  to  be 
allowed  to  pass  through  the  lines  and  hunt  and  fish  down 
the  Pamlico  Sound.  They  say  there  is  great  unrest  among 
their  people  and  that  the  situation  in  every  way  is  critical." 

"Who's  at  anchor  in  the  sound?" 

"Captain  Bell,  sir." 

"Go  and  ask  him  to  come  here  at  once.  Bring  in  those 
Indians.     Their  names,  interpreter?" 

"Tall  Pine  and  Running  Waters." 

"What  do  they  want?" 

"They  want  the  great  whiteface  to  grant  them  the  privi- 
lege of  fishing  and  hunting  in  Pamlico.  Their  people  have 
hunted  here  over  hundreds  of  years;  it  is  their  custom  and 
right  to  fish  and  hunt." 

"Suppose  their  request  is  refused?' 

107 


>« 


108  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Both  Indians'  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  ground,  their  faces 
as  stolid  as  doorposts. 

"They  say  their  people  will  be  highly  displeased  and 
they  fear  grave  troubles." 

"Come  in,  Captain  Bell;  please  be  seated.  Captain,  are 
you  very  busy?" 

"No,  Governor." 

"I  desire  that  you  get  ready  and  take  these  two  Indians 
down  the  Pamlico  River  near  the  old  fort,  take  them  ashore 
and  let  them  see  their  headless  friends.  You  will  find  near 
the  fort  seventy  dead  braves.  Six  of  their  heads  I  had  cut 
off  to  be  thrown  in  the  Nahucky  fort  above  New  Bern 
(about  fifty-seven  miles  westward).  Now  tell  them,  inter- 
preter, 'If  you  or  your  people  dare  to  cross  the  reservation 
line  I  will  kill  every  one  of  you — men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren— as  you  will  find  them  killed  on  the  Pamlico.'  Go! 
Mr.  Jones,  follow  Captain  Bell  and  tell  him  I  will  pay  all 
expenses.  I  think  when  they  see  the  woods  full  of  dead 
braves  it  will  cure  their  warlike  heat.  Gentlemen,  what 
good  do  these  clamorous  people  propose  for  to  help  our 
criss-crossed  Colony?" 

"Governor,  they  object  to  paying  taxes  for  the  support 
of  the  war;  they  will  not  go  on  the  firing  line,  and  they 
denounce  you  and  the  impressment,  and  demand  a  cessa- 
tion of  hostilities;  that  Mr.  Moseley  has  openly  declared 
that  he  intends  to  file  charges  against  you  at  the  next 
Sessions."      (See  Records.) 

"You  have  observed,  gentlemen,  that  'Our  Ned'  has  a 
passion  for  raving.  His  homebred  hate  for  me,  right  now, 
is  regrettable.  Depend  upon  it,  our  people  are  awakening 
to  the  danger  of  demagoguery;  they  will  see  it  is  foul  and 
faulty.  Gentlemen,  are  we  to  sit  down  idly  and  let  the 
redskins  and  their  allies  burn  our  homes  down  over  our 
heads,  continue  to  ravish  the  women  and  butcher  the  chil- 
dren as  they  have  been  doing  for  two  years?  Mr.  Jones, 
the  trouble  is  largely  abetted  by  those  who  should  stand 


At  Edenton  Council  109 

by  the  people.  Such  men  love  to  sit  in  judgment  and 
denounce  those  who  are  in  place  and  power,  thus  giving 
encouragement  to  our  enemies.  Well,  we  cannot  let  up, 
or  all  is  lost.  The  war  cannot  go  on  without  supplies. 
Gentlemen,  it  is  with  you.  You  have  clothed  me  with  great 
responsibilities.  I  fully  realize  it.  I  have  done  my  best. 
We  must  stand  firmly  by  brave  Moore  and  our  men  and 
avenge  the  butcheries  of  our  people.  Don't  forget,  I  beg 
you,  that  there  are  thousands  of  bloodthirsty  Indians  out- 
side the  fort,  ready  to  commence  anew  their  barbaric 
cruelty." 

The  council  at  once  unanimously  voted  for  a  vigorous 
prosecution  of  the  war  and  unbounded  confidence  in  the 
commander-in-chief;  that  all  people  must  respect  duly 
qualified  officials  or  mob  law  would  be  interminable. 
Further,  it  was  the  duty  of  all  good  citizens  to  go  forward 
and  bear  their  share  of  the  duties  and  dangers  of  the  hour; 
that  they  had  been  assured  in  the  council  that  a  decisive 
battle  would  soon  be  fought,  and  the  Indians  would  be 
killed  or  dispersed  to  a  man.      (See  notes.) 

Returning  to  the  library,  Colonel  Pollock  remarked  to 
the  council  good-humoredly:  "Gentlemen,  adversity  has 
its  uses.  Governor  Spottswood  has  boxed  our  ears  with  a 
sharp  lesson.  He  has  simply  refused  us  assistance  unless 
we  comply  with  his  arbitrary  demands.  Good  God!  my 
hopes  are  we  will  not  be  found  so  needy  again.  North 
Carolina  is  an  empire  in  embryo.  It  is  a  stern  fact  that 
we  must  continuously  study  and  strive  to  put  in  motion  the 
forces  that  do  build  up  a  people  and  a  state  to  power  and 
to  wealth.  Our  sun  of  hope  has  not  set.  Gentlemen,  let 
me  bid  you  all  good  night  and  a  good  rest." 

Now  every  hour,  every  day,  was  all-important  to  ward 
off  annihilation  or  to  win  victory.  Colonel  Pollock  at  once 
made  arrangements  to  meet  the  powerful  King  Blount, 
whose  consent  he  secured  to  a  temporary  peace.  The 
commander-in-chief  was  gifted  with  a  penetrating  mind  and 


110  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

persuasive  manners.  He  placed  spies  on  the  bloody-minded 
Hancock  and  the  treacherous  King  Taylor.  He  visited  in 
person  the  most  influential  Quakers  and  begged  them  to 
come  up  to  the  help  of  the  white  settlers  against  the  mighty 
tribes  of  Tuscaroras,  Cores  and  Pungoes.  He  sent  gifts  by 
friendly  Indians  to  King  Peter  to  keep  him  from  taking  up 
arms.  He  sent  a  trusty  messenger  to  his  northern  merchant 
to  send  him  at  once  a  large  loan  of  money  for  the  Colony's 
use,  that  he  would  assume  all  responsibility  of  payment. 
In  due  time  the  money  reached  him,  and  the  pressing 
demands  now  could  be  met  with  ready  coin.  (See  Records.) 

"I  thank  you,  gentlemen,  for  your  vote  of  confidence 
and  support.  Send  supplies  to  New  Bern.  Tell  our  peo- 
ple Colonel  Moore  will  certainly  win.  I  candidly  think 
we  shall  not  need  them,  but  for  fear  we  might  not,  send 
what  you  can  without  delay.  This  is  the  situation:  the 
fifty  tribes  of  Indians  in  our  State  are  all  watching  and 
waiting  the  result  at  Nahucky.  The  Contentnea  and 
Chowan  reservations  will  be  quieted  when  Tall  Pine  and 
Running  Waters  make  their  report,  at  least  for  a  short 
while.  The  Meherrins  and  the  Pamunkeys  have  not  for- 
gotten me,  and  the  Santees  will  be  held  back  by  the  Gov- 
ernor of  South  Carolina.  Governor  Spottswood  is  keeping 
a  nervous  lookout  for  the  safety  of  Virginia  and  letting  us 
look  out  for  Carolina  as  best  we  can.  Our  troops  are  well 
posted  on  all  sides  of  the  fort,  and  like  greyhounds  are 
straining  at  the  leash,  and  our  scouts  are  scouring  without 
hindrance  the  riversides.  The  Tuscaroras,  Cores,  Matta- 
muskeets,  the  Bear  River  tribe,  Big  Jack  Saunders,  the 
Nottaways,  and  the  Senecas  are  in  our  front.  Go  among 
the  people  and  tell  them  of  the  overthrow  of  the  Pungoes 
and  Pamlicoes  and  Hatteras  Indians,  and  that  we  are  on 
the  eve  of  a  glorious  victory.  King  Blount  and  King 
Peter  have  been  won  over  to  our  side  for  a  season. 

"As  to  the  Quakers,  we  must  be  patient  with  them.  They 
are  misguided  and  fanatical.     As  to  Mr.  Moseley,  he  is 


At  Edenton  Council  111 

by  nature  captious  and  irreconcilable.  Now,  when  Colonel 
Moore  has  crushed  the  warlike  tribe  of  the  Tuscaroras  and 
their  allies,  then  the  Quakers'  cry  will  be  hushed,  and  Mr. 
Moseley  and  the  Carey  faction  will  have  to  hatch  up  a  new 
cant.  My  friends,  go  tell  the  people  we  have  hopeful 
officers  and  our  men  are  full  of  fight.  Gentlemen,  we  must 
be  greater  than  our  grievances.  The  Indians  have  a  strong 
fort,  and  over  three  thousand  braves  and  scores  of  run- 
aways to  defend  it,  but  we  will  win.  Promise  the  people 
an  early  victory,  a  sure  and  lasting  peace.  We  will  soon 
be  coming  home  a-shouting,  the  war  will  be  over.  Good- 
bye, I  am  off  for  the  fort.  Go  tell  our  people  our  trusty 
riflemen,  our  cannon  will  batter  down  all  opposition,  or 
we  will  blow  them  up  by  tunneling." 

Boyd:  I  do  hope,  in  God's  name,  the  Governor's  hopes 
will  be  confirmed,  and  that  speedily.  "Old  Silk  Stock- 
ings" is  generally  right. 

Gales:  He's  gone  to  bide  the  bent,  and  his  good  com- 
mon sense  will  guide  his  valor.  The  day  of  the  bickering 
malcontents,  I  verily  believe,  is  about  over. 

Chervin:  Gentlemen,  he  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  roof- 
tree  of  our  goodly  building.  We  can  now  safely  go  before 
the  people  and  promise  them  a  speedy  ending  of  this  cruel, 
heartrending  war. 

Getting  back  to  the  trail  (there  was  no  road),  the  Gov- 
ernor soon  heard  the  agreeable  news  that  a  big  fight  for  the 
last  two  days  was  going  steadily  on  at  the  Fort  Nohoroco 
(Nahucky).      (See  notes.) 

The  roar  of  the  small  cannon  and  the  coehorn,  the  with- 
ering fire  of  small  arms,  the  shouts  of  the  white,  the  war- 
whoops  of  the  Indians,  filled  the  air  with  demoniacal 
soundings. 

The  news  from  a  half-breed  filled  the  command  with 
intense  delight.  Although  it  was  expected  that  Colonel 
Moore  would  eventually  conquer  and  batter  down  the  gates, 
yet  Governor  Pollock  had  seriously  considered  that  if  a 


1 12  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

reverse  should  come,  at  the  fort  at  New  Bern  he  could  rally 
what  was  left  of  his  forces  and  fight  them  again. 

It  was  generally  known  that  all  the  proper  fighting  force 
of  the  province  was  in  front  of  the  fort,  that  a  small  frac- 
tion of  the  white  settlers  were  active  rangers  to  keep  watch 
from  Edenton  to  New  Bern.  Coming  in  hearing  of  the 
firing  of  the  guns,  the  command  speeded  their  horses  for 
the  front.  Intense  anxiety  was  in  every  heart,  the  fear  of 
failure  was  in  every  breast. 

Colonel  Moore  had  circulated  among  the  men  that  the 
commander-in-chief  was  coming  with  help,  that  victory  was 
certain.     "Fight  on!  fight  on!"  was  the  solgan. 


XIX 


TALL  FEATHER 

"The  almond  tree  shall  flourish  and  the  grasshopper  shall  be 
a  burden,  and  the  mourners  go  about  the  streets" — Ecclesiastes. 

The  Indians  on  the  Chowan  often  heard  of  the  fights  and 
the  forays  going  on  on  the  Trent  and  the  Neuse  between  the 
white  man  and  the  red.  They  rejoiced  to  hear  that  another 
great  fort  had  been  carefully  built  and  provisioned  by  the 
fierce,  warlike  Tuscaroras,  and  that  the  settlers  were  heart- 
broken and  distracted  over  the  burnings  and  murders  com- 
mitted by  Black  Wolf  and  others.  Among  the  Chowans 
was  an  under-chief  named  Tall  Feather.  He  had  a  deep- 
seated  racial  hatred  that  was  limitless.  He  delighted  in 
scheming,  overreaching,  lying;  and  his  grasping,  avaricious 
disposition  was  well  known.  By  dint  of  enterprise  and 
intrigue  he  had  gotten  himself  looked  upon  as  a  rising 
brave.  When  a  stripling  he  visited  the  Meherrin  Indians, 
and  while  he  and  his  brother  were  there  the  Meherrins 
were  vigorously  attacked  by  the  whites  in  their  stockade. 
He  witnessed  the  deadly  encounter  between  their  leader 
and  Red  Eagle,  his  brother.  He  remembered  the  swing  of 
the  tomahawk  and  saw  the  quick  thrust  of  the  sword ;  he  saw 
his  brother  fall.  He  left  the  Meherrin  camp  for  home, 
and,  whether  in  the  wigwam  or  on  the  hunt,  he  dreamed 
and  cherished  revenge,  for  by  nature  he  was  vicious,  and 
with  talents  directed  in  channels  of  violence. 

The  long-waited-for  opportunity  had  come.  The  wily, 
malignant  Spotted  Crow  had  arrived.  Tall  Feather  heard 
with  fiendish  satisfaction  that  the  whites  were  worn  out  with 
the  barbarous  continuance  of  the  war. 

With  much  address  and  deliberation  he  persuaded  a 

8  113 


1 14  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

chosen  band  of  braves  to  go  with  him,  every  one  hickory- 
hearted.  One  hundred  and  seventy  braves,  with  White 
Mantle,  Little  Bull,  and  other  trusty  leaders,  were  to 
stealthily  slip  away.  On  the  Pamlico  River  Spotted  Crow 
had  reported  a  great  gathering  of  Pamlicoes,  Pungoes,  and 
others  that  were  to  go  to  the  assistance  of  Black  Wolf,  who 
would  be  duly  apprised  of  their  undertaking.  Spotted 
Crow  told  of  the  canoes  and  provisions  that  would  be  at  the 
Indian  rendezvous,  and  that  they  all  would  take  up  the 
trail  on  the  north  side  of  the  Contentnea,  and  about  day- 
break enter  the  north  gate  of  Nohoroco. 

There  was  no  sleep  for  Tall  Feather.  He  had  walked 
the  silent  village.  He  heard  in  his  excited  imagination 
the  conclamation  of  the  Tuscarora  braves.  While  his  picked 
band  were  peacefully  sleeping,  in  his  heart  there  was  a 
burning  lust  for  blood  so  great  that  sleep  was  banished, 
that  tire  of  brain  and  body  were  unrecognized.  His  high- 
pitched  ambition  was  now  to  be  satisfied,  and  he  was  re- 
solved to  have  his  candle  of  life  snuffed  out  in  heated  com- 
bat with  his  hated  foes  or  be  laurel-browed  a  victor.  Enter- 
ing his  tepee,  there  lay  his  wife  and  daughter  in  repose. 
He  felt  soothed,  and,  lying  down  by  his  faithful  mate,  he 
fell  into  a  doze,  to  be  awakened  by  her  frightened  appeals: 
"Zuni,  Zuni,  cease  struggling  so." 

"0,  is  that  you?  0,  what  a  frightful  dream!  Is  your 
brother  here?  He  was  here  alive,  and  again  wounded. 
0,  I  saw  headless  men  going  to  and  fro;  I  saw  White 
Mantle  and  a  hundred  braves  pressed  into  the  Death's 
boat  by  the  tyrannous  ferryman,  and  they  passed  over  into 
endless,  dateless  night.  When  you  aroused  me  the  Red 
Raven  was  croaking,  and  the  stars  falling  about  my  feet. 
0,  I  am  so  distressed!  Go  not  today,  Tall  Feather.  Stay. 
Send  Spotted  Crow,  the  evil  one,  away." 

"Zuni,  I  must  go.  To  remain  would  be  cowardly  mad- 
ness.    I  would  be  called  squaw-man." 

The  Indians,  full  of  cheer,  with  rifle  and  bow,  boated  the 


Tall  Feather  115 

Chowan  River  into  Bertie  and  marched  rapidly  and  stealth- 
ily, and  at  late  evening  of  the  second  day  had  crossed  over 
the  upper  Pamlico  River  and  had  arrived  at  the  old  stock- 
ade, the  rendezvous  for  the  allies'  canoes  and  provisions. 
Tall  Feather  declared  publicly  his  purpose  to  go  up  the 
Contentnea,  pass  through  the  deep  woods,  and  hurry  to  the 
fort.  Then  they  were  to  arrive  at  the  north  gate  and  safely 
enter,  to  which  declaration  there  were  many  approving 
grunts. 

The  Indian  is  governed  by  the  sense  of  direction  uner- 
ringly, which  is  a  most  remarkable  fact.  He  can  go  forward 
at  night  without  star  or  compass  to  the  place  sought  for  like 
unto  migratory  birds.  The  signal  first  to  give  notice  of 
their  near  approach  was  three  owl  hoots,  and,  when  quite 
near,  the  cry  of  the  fleeting  squirrel,  Tsi-u-tsi.  Spotted 
Crow  had  the  way  marked  out  in  unmistakable  Indian 
fashion.  The  route  would  conceal  their  every  movement 
from  the  wakeful  white  settlers  and  bear  them  away  from 
the  scouring  scouts.  They  rested  at  the  old  stockade,  ate 
ravenously,  and  boasted  of  their  prowess  one  to  another. 

Tall  Feather  advised  Spotted  Crow  and  a  Core  runner  to 
go  on  ahead  to  let  the  Indians  in  the  fort  know  that  they 
were  on  the  march,  and  to  be  of  good  cheer — help  was 
coming.  The  Indian  by  nature  is  brave  and  capricious, 
revengeful  and  superstitious.  Tall  Feather,  Mad  Ox  and 
Little  Bull  felt  elated;  White  Mantle,  silently  as  one  con- 
templating a  fight  forcible  with  fate.  Every  event  so  far 
had  contributed  to  their  advancement.  The  allies  in  force, 
provisions  abundant,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  canoes  were 
at  hand.  Hope  buoyed  up  all,  and  sure  success  seemed 
certain  to  crown  their  every  movement.  The  Indians  felt 
much  reverence  for  the  old  stockade  that  was  undergoing 
slow  decay.  Their  people  they  knew  had  made  a  stand 
within  its  bounds  against  the  whites  more  times  than  one. 
It  had  now  been  a  crow's-nest  by  the  Pamlico  for  many 
seasons. 


116  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Tall  Feather,  top-full  of  pride,  about  midnight  had  sent 
for  the  leading  braves  of  the  Pamlicoes  and  the  Pungoes 
to  come  and  talk  with  him  over  their  proposed  venture  for 
the  relief  of  the  besieged  fort  on  the  morrow.  While  eat- 
ing and  boasting  in  boisterous  discourse,  the  hoot  of  an  owl 
was  heard  in  the  distance.  Every  Indian  jumped  to  his  feet 
and  listened.  They  knew  some  danger  was  indicated.  Then 
a  loud  hoot  was  heard  not  far  away,  every  rifle  and  bow 
and  arrow  was  caught  up,  and  they,  in  haste,  prepared 
for  battle.  Now  sharp  firing  was  plainly  heard.  Loud 
shouts  made  by  palefaces  broke  the  stillness  of  the  forest; 
and  White  Mantle,  full  of  valiancy,  called  to  the  braves 
nearest  to  him  and  ran  swiftly  to  the  front.  The  Indian 
scout  came  running  in  with  the  startling  intelligence  that  a 
large  body  of  whites  was  in  their  immediate  front. 

The  hot,  mounting  spirit  of  Tall  Feather  arose  to  the 
occasion.  He  felt  a  warrior's  joy  in  the  bustle  and  hustle 
incident  to  the  coming  fight.  Into  his  heart  came  a  stout 
excitement  hitherto  unknown,  the  opportunity  of  a  battle's 
bloody  sport.  The  war-whoop  of  his  braves  was  ringing 
in  his  ears.  There  was  no  time  to  spare.  He  at  once 
ordered  Mad  Ox  and  Little  Bull  to  the  assistance  of  White 
Mantle,  who  was  being  roughly  handled  by  the  close  fight- 
ing of  the  whites.  Tall  Feather  confidently  trusted  his 
fortunes  to  the  right  of  his  lines,  where  was  posted  the 
hardy  and  brave  Chowans.  He  courageously  rushed  in 
among  the  allies,  cheerily  shouting,  "Be  brave,  my  friends! 
Be  men!"  Shouts  came  back  piercingly  from  the  whites, 
"Rock  Heart,  fire  and  sword!" 

The  fight  waxed  hotter  and  hotter.  Every  Indian  was 
behind  his  tree,  and  arrows  and  balls  were  being  freely 
exchanged  between  the  combatants.  Tall  Feather's  heart 
beat  hard  and  fast  at  the  cry  of  "Rock  Heart."  He  re- 
membered his  brother's  death.  He  felt  his  spirit  suddenly 
become  chilled.  He  seemed  to  see  instantly  that  he  was 
on  the  verge   of  a   dismal  failure   at  arms,   and   it  was 


Tall  Feather  117 

irreparable.  Mad  Ox  reeled  and  fell;  a  rifle  shot  stilled 
Little  Bull's  strong  arm,  and  the  princely  White  Mantle 
fell  fighting,  well  to  the  front.  The  Indians  were  forced 
to  seek  the  stockade  for  shelter.  Every  Indian  fully 
realized  that  they  were  outfired.  The  suddenness  of  the 
assault,  the  continuous  musketry  kept  up  through  the  entire 
night,  and  at  intervals  there  came  floating  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind  the  enraged  defiant  war-cry,  "Rock  Heart,  fire 
and  sword!" 

This  ensemble  of  troubles  made  the  red  men  feel  de- 
pressed and  dazed,  and  the  fierceness  displayed  by  the 
palefaces  was  unabated.  Their  confident  demeanor  made 
the  Indians  conclude  beyond  a  doubt  that  their  absolute 
annihilation  was  aimed  at  by  their  relentless  leader.  The 
Mattamuskeets  were  the  first  to  admit  the  futility  of  their 
resistance.  They  refused  to  listen  to  Tall  Feather  and 
their  chiefs  and  stampeded.  The  Pungoes  took  up  the 
panic,  and  next  the  Pamlicoes  commenced  to  give  way. 
The  wound  in  his  hip  had  so  disabled  Tall  Feather  that  he 
had  to  be  helped  from  the  field.  Late  after  midnight  he 
became  painfully  aware  of  the  fact  that  immediate  retreat 
was  the  only  safety  left  them.  Hundreds  had  already 
taken  to  their  canoes.  All  was  hurry.  The  dawn  was 
approaching  apace.  The  day  star  was  high  up,  and  the 
sound's  waters  were  being  fanned  by  the  morning  breeze. 
The  mortally  wounded,  the  meat  and  maize,  the  tembrels 
and  quirns,  were  left  behind.  Pools  of  blood  by  the  river's 
edge  told  the  sad  tale  of  some  beloved  leader's  mishap — 
gory — being  borne  away  by  his  faithful  braves.  Soon 
every  canoe  was  passing  down  the  river  to  Pamlico  Sound, 
and  where  they  entered  the  Pamlico  near  the  Croatan, 
canoes  could  be  seen  scattering  right  and  left  for  their 
tribal  abodes.  The  Pamlicoes,  Pungoes  and  Mattamus- 
keets were  soon  in  hiding  places,  and  the  Hatterases  pulled 
into  Cedar  Bay,  and  the  Chowans  were  still  a-fleeing.  Tall 
Feather  was  deeply  mortified  over  his  discomfiture.     He 


118  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

dreaded  to  meet  his  people.  He  had  lost  many  braves  and 
brought  back  not  a  scalp  of  the  enemy.  What  will  the 
meeting  be?  He  scanned  anxiously,  as  they  were  fleeing, 
the  waters  in  front,  with  the  fear  of  capture  and  decapita- 
tion. His  braves  were  bending  every  effort  to  run  up  into 
the  Albemarle.  They  were  making  for  Harvey's  Neck 
landing.  Arriving  there,  they  landed,  pulled  up  their 
canoes  into  the  underbrush,  and  leisurely  went  across  the 
country  to  their  several  habitations. 

It  seemed  to  Tall  Feather  that  an  insect  had  found  lodg- 
ment within  his  ear,  and  the  constant  ticking  sound  was  as  a 
death-watch,  irritable  and  noisome  to  his  bewildered  brain. 

It  was  soon  known  that  a  bloody  battle  had  been  fought 
and  lost,  and  that  many  of  their  braves  had  fallen.  Tall 
Feather  went  at  once  to  the  old  chief's  tepee  and  told  him 
frankly  of  the  serious  endamagement  of  his  undertaking; 
that  they  were  unexpectedly  attacked  by  the  palefaces,  who 
had  received  information  through  spies  of  their  encamp- 
ment; that  they  were  outnumbered,  and  the  aim  of  the 
whites  was  deadly  and  unerring;  the  allies  fought  stoutly 
for  a  while,  but,  becoming  discouraged,  they  broke  and 
fled;  that  White  Mantle  did  wonders  and  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy  fighting  valiantly  until  he  fell;  that  his  heart 
bled  and  broke  over  White  Mantle's  mortal  hurt.  This 
short  recital  did  not  suffice.  The  relations  of  White  Mantle 
and  others  clamored  for  a  more  minute  detail  of  the  death 
of  so  many  of  their  young  men  that  had  gone  forth  with 
him  to  war  against  the  palefaces. 

The  men  asked  him,  "Where  are  your  trophies?"  the 
women,  "Where  are  our  loved  ones?"  The  wailing  for 
husbands  and  sons  was  so  heartrending  and  continuous 
that  Tall  Feather  feared  for  his  life.  The  old  men,  seeing 
the  necessity  of  the  moment,  aligned  themselves  alongside 
of  Tall  Feather,  and  gave  him  the  protection  he  so  sorely 
needed.  They  debated  and  entreated,  one  and  all,  to  listen 
to  Tall  Feather's  report  calmly;  that  they  knew  he  had 


Tall  Feather  119 

done  all  he  could  to  win  victory,  that  he  had  come  back 
badly  wounded,  and  his  heart  was  broken  over  the  loss  of 
so  many  promising  braves.  Tall  Feather  was  allowed  to 
continue  his  defense.  He  faced  unflinchingly  the  surging, 
howling  mass,  and  told  them  that  the  allies  had  freely  fur- 
nished provisions  and  canoes;  that  all  of  them  to  a  man 
felt  sure  of  getting  to  the  fort  in  time  to  reinforce  the 
Tuscaroras;  but  the  suddenness  of  the  assault  created  con- 
fusion, and  it  was  impossible  to  restore  confidence.  He 
told  them  that  he  would  never  lead  in  battle  again,  that  he 
was  lame  for  life,  that  White  Mantle,  Mad  Ox,  and  Little 
Bull  fell  early  in  the  fight,  trying  to  stem  the  panic.  The 
Indians,  seeing  he  was  badly  wounded,  accepted  his  ex- 
planation with  "how-hows." 

The  old  men  suggested  to  commence  making  prepara- 
tions at  once  for  the  funeral  rites  that  were  due  the  fallen 
braves,  thus  diverting  attention  from  the  lame  leader. 

The  Indians,  from  Coteckney  to  Hatteras,  from  the 
Meherrin  to  the  Pamunkey,  soon  heard  of  the  disaster  that 
had  befallen  Tall  Feather.  The  men  bent  their  heads  and 
beat  their  breasts,  the  women  wailed,  and  the  medicine  men 
lay  down  upon  the  ground  and  moaned.  That  night  Launa, 
the  daughter  of  Tall  Feather,  the  great-granddaughter  of 
Shawana,  attired  in  her  beautiful  beaded  dress  and  the 
eagle  feathers  that  had  been  given  her  by  her  lover,  White 
Mantle,  then  sought  the  company  of  her  father.  She  was 
the  favorite  of  the  tribe,  and,  standing  by  the  campfire,  she 
wildly  chanted,  "Beyond  the  purple  hills  lies  the  Land  of 
Rest.  Darkness  has  come — from  cloud  to  cloud  the  blood- 
wet-winds,  shrill  and  loud,  tell  me  all  is  lost."  There  she 
stood!  Was  she  the  far-off  offspring  of  beautiful  Esther? 
So  calm,  so  highbred,  so  willing  to  die!  Launa  (Beautiful 
Bosom)  went  and  sat  down  by  her  father  and  leaned  her 
head  on  his  breast.  Tall  Feather  loved  her,  his  only  child, 
passionately.  He  placed  his  arms  endearingly  around  her 
and  drew  her  to  him.     Noticing  that  she  was  not  breathing 


120  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

as  usual,  he  called  to  her,  "Launa,  daughter!"  As  there 
was  no  reply,  her  mother  sprang  to  her  side,  "Speak  to 
mother,  my  child!"  Tall  Feather  touched  Zuni,  his  wife's, 
shoulder,  and  pointing  to  the  wigwam,  said  "Go!  hurry!" 
The  wretched  mother,  in  great  haste,  went  and  spread  the 
white  wolf  robe  and  placed  a  pillow  made  of  cheetal- 
skin,  stuffed  with  the  blue  heron's  feathers,  to  rest  her  head 
upon. 

The  father  laid  her  upon  the  robe,  straightened  her 
shapely  limbs,  and  her  mother  unfastened  her  long  black 
hair,  placing  the  eagle  feathers  that  White  Mantle  had 
given  her,  and  which  she  so  highly  prized,  within  her  hand. 
Zuni  lay  down  at  her  feet  and,  pressing  the  feet  of  her 
child  to  her  bosom,  groaned  in  great  anguish.  Tall  Feather 
stood,  his  eagle  eye  seemed  to  be  searching  the  secrets 
hidden  from  the  human  view.  In  full  length  of  limb, 
lifting  his  hands  aloft,  he  cried  out  in  bitterness  of  spirit: 
"My  braves  are  beaten  in  battle,  the  paleface  walks  abroad 
in  our  land,  my  blood  has  turned  to  water,  White  Mantle 
and  Red  Eagle  sleep,  Launa  is  possessed,  the  Great  Spirit 
has  spoken.  I  am  a  broken  bowl!"  Folding  his  arms 
across  his  front,  he  stood  mute,  motionless  as  a  statue  of 
stone.  His  voice,  trumpet-like,  went  sounding  all  through 
the  soughing  pines,  "like  the  last  echo  of  a  great  cry." 

The  medicine  man  came.  He  entered  Tall  Feather's 
tepee.  He  looked  grave.  Raising  his  hands  and  shaking 
his  bells,  he  told  Tall  Feather  his  daughter  was  beyond 
human  help  mentally — that  she  was  "possessed" — that  his 
daughter  was  brainwrecked. 

Launa  was  a  great  favorite  of  the  tribe;  her  beauty,  her 
gracefulness  in  the  light  dances,  her  soft  voice,  ever  heard 
in  the  tribe's  chantings  over  the  dead,  her  deferential  ways 
toward  the  older  people,  endeared  her  to  one  and  all.  The 
utmost  solicitude  was  manifested  over  her  condition ;  gradu- 
ally she  regained  her  body  strength,  but  her  senses  were 
benumbed.     She  realized  that  she  had  undergone  a  change; 


Tall  Feather  121 

that  now  she  had  but  one  besetting  thought,  that  was  to  find, 
be  reunited  with  White  Mantle.  She  took  to  the  sound. 
Most  of  her  time  she  paddled  to  and  fro — restlessly, 
listlessly. 

Late  one  stormy  afternoon,  far  out  upon  the  water,  she 
was  seen  in  her  frail  canoe  making  her  way  toward  the  old 
Pamlico  stockade — faithful  soul,  pure  spirit  of  woman- 
hood— pushing  as  best  she  could  her  light  bark  amidst  the 
lightning  and  the  tempest.  Unseen  by  mortal  eye,  she 
went  down,  and  restfully  her  virgin  body  lay  upon  the 
sandy  bottom  of  the  surging  Albemarle. 


XX 


BLACK  WOLF'S  NIGHT  ATTACK 

"The  mighty  Jove  cuts  short  with  just  disdain 
The  long,  long  veins  of  designing  Man; 
One  fate  the  warrior  and  the  friend  shall  strike, 
And  Troy's  white  sands  must  drink  our  blood  alike." 

— Homer. 

The  deep,  wide  ditches,  the  high,  thick  rampart,  the 
stockade,  the  easily  constructed  citadel  of  Indian  cunning, 
built  up  a  belief  in  its  defenders  of  its  impregnability. 
The  Indian  braves  pooh-poohed  the  idea  that  the  white 
man,  just  from  his  plough,  his  axe,  and  his  seine,  was  in 
numbers  enough,  although  assisted  by  friendly  Indians,  to 
leap  their  walls,  storm  and  take  their  fortress.  From  their 
loopholes,  from  the  trees,  behind  the  thick  shields  of  buf- 
falo hides  studded  with  stones,  they  made  it  dangerous  for 
a  paleface  to  show  his  shape.  The  night  before,  about 
an  hour  before  day,  Colonel  Hecklefield  was  lying  awake 
in  his  miniature  fort  fronting  the  north  gate.  The  distance 
between  the  whites  and  the  red  men  had  to  be  about  three 
hundred  yards. 

The  muffled  hoot  of  an  owl  over  toward  the  run,  then 
another  hoot,  aroused  his  suspicion,  and  a  nearer  and 
clearer  hoot  made  him  call  up  Captain  Maule. 

"Captain,  get  up  at  once.    Let's  go  out  and  look  around." 

"Colonel,  what's  up?" 

And  now,  near  the  gate,  coming  from  the  run,  was  the 
soft  call  of  the  flying  squirrel  heard,  "Tsi,  tsi." 

"Colonel,  what  is  that?  Right  there!  Hang  me,  if  it 
ain't  an  Indian!" 

"Where,  where,  Captain?" 

122 


Black  Wolfs  Night  Attack  123 

Sly  Spotted  Crow  has  slipped  by  the  drowsy  "friendly" 
picket  and  was  now  safely  within  the  fort. 

"Captain,  go  and  communicate  with  Colonel  Moore.  I 
will  put  on  one  of  my  men  and  let  the  'friendly'  go  to  his 
wickup.     No  more  Indian  pickets  for  me." 

Colonel  Moore  came  and  advised  double  caution;  double 
pickets  at  night,  and  the  skirmish  line  to  be  placed,  doubly 
strengthened,  near  the  north  gate,  until  the  Governor  and 
his  men  were  heard  from.  Every  picket  was  cautioned  to 
be  on  the  alert,  and  the  officer  on  guard  at  night  was  ordered 
to  often  visit  the  picket  line  all  around  the  fort.  Colonel 
Hecklefield  sent  for  John  Lyon,  and  he  was  ordered  to  get 
as  near  the  Indians'  north  gate  as  he  possibly  could  after 
nightfall,  to  get  information  of  any  movement  that  might 
be  made  by  the  enemy,  and  report  what  he  might  hear  or 
discover. 

The  night  after,  Black  Wolf  sat  in  his  quarters  smoking 
and  inhaling  the  smoke  of  his  favorite  kinnikinnic  to  drive 
out  a  breast  cold  which  he  had  recently  contracted.  Spotted 
Crow  was  answering  questions  put  to  him  by  Green  Turtle. 
The  aged  warrior  sat  smoking  his  red-stone  pipe,  which  was 
filled  with  knick,  a  coarse  powder  of  native  narcotic  plants, 
intermixed  with  tobacco.  Spotted  Crow  was  feasting  on 
marrowfat  and  pemmican.  Black  Wolf  was  seeking  lung 
relief,  and  old  Green  Turtle  was  seeking  heart's  ease  from 
the  care-drawing  fumes  of  his  gray-golden  compound. 
Spotted  Crow  brought  good  news;  that  large  reinforcements 
were  on  their  way;  but  he  advised  that  the  utmost  stillness 
and  secrecy  should  be  exercised  to  lull  suspicion. 

John  Lyon  knew  his  loved  one  was  confined  in  the 
Indian  fort  as  a  hostage  or  for  baser  purposes.  Night 
came,  Lyon  had  crawled  noiselessly  near  to  the  gate.  No 
sound  in  the  fort;  all  were  sleeping.  When  the  moon  had 
gone  down  and  the  peculiar  listlessness  of  midnight  had 
come,  a  light  footstep  was  heard  inside  the  gate,  a  face 
peered  over  the  stockade.     Lyon  knew  it  was  Mad  Calf's. 


124  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

In  a  short  time  another  face  was  darkly  seen,  minutely 
examining  the  ground  in  front  where  Lyon  lay.  The  great 
nose,  the  large  mouth,  made  known  Black  Wolf's  presence. 
A  low  gunt  of  approval  was  heard.  Lyon,  fearing  mis- 
chief, stole  away  and  reported  to  his  captain. 

Patrols  were  pushed  out  everywhere;  the  skirmish  line 
was  advised  to  be  on  watch,  that  trouble  might  break  out 
from  some  point.  The  time  and  hour  for  Tall  Feather, 
Little  Bull,  and  the  other  chiefs  to  be  in  call  distance  was 
thus  calculated  by  Spotted  Crow.  Mad  Calf  was  instructed 
to  pass  out  with  his  force  the  eastern  sally-port,  drive  into 
their  inclosures  the  whites,  and  keep  up  a  constant  shower 
of  arrows.  Portholes  opened  fire;  tall  trees  sent  down  a 
fury  of  death-dealing  arrows;  and  it  looked  as  if  a  furious 
night  attack  was  in  progress. 

Black  Wolf's  force,  at  the  word,  anxious  to  get  out  and 
be  free,  if  only  for  a  short  time,  to  enter  into  an  open  field 
fight,  his  men  bounded  forward  with  horrible  yells  and 
broke  down  all  opposition.  This  heavy  demonstration  was 
to  cover  the  advance  of  those  expected  friends  from  Pam- 
lico, who,  with  Mad  Calf,  would  rush  in  at  the  west  gate. 
Black  Wolf's  warwhoop,  "Rahk!  Rahk!"  was  heard,  lead- 
ing on  his  braves. 

Captain  Maule's  company  bore  the  brunt  of  the  attack. 
The  skirmishers  found  the  main  line,  and  all  fell  back 
fighting  foot  by  foot,  awaiting  reinforcements,  into  their 
little  fort. 

Colonel  Hecklefield  was  holding  back  Mad  Calf,  and 
Colonel  Moore  rushed  forward  with  assistance  to  the  sorely 
pressed  whites  and  f riendlies  that  were  facing  Black  Wolf's 
mad,  heady  rush.  The  fire  felt  by  Big  Bear's  men  made 
him  give  way,  and  every  Indian  experienced  a  fierceness 
of  spirit  manifested  by  the  whites,  a  determination  that 
they  could  not  break  down  nor  shatter. 

Runners  were  sent  to  advise  Mad  Calf  to  get  back  as  best 
he  could.     No  friends'  warwhoop  had  been  heard,  and 


Black  Wolfs  Night  Attack  125 

Black  Wolf  felt  the  necessity  of  getting  his  men  into  the 
fort  as  gradually  and  safely  as  he  could.  From  within  the 
stockade  arrows  and  bullets  continued  to  come  from  the 
Indians.  The  little  forts  proved  of  incalculable  value  as 
rally  positions.  A  heavy  skirmish  line  was  thrown  out,  all 
the  wounded  were  carried  to  the  infirmary,  and,  after  an 
hour  of  further  suspense,  the  whites  rent  the  air  with  defiant 
rejoicings. 

Day  came,  and  the  field  was  searched,  but  not  an  Indian, 
dead  or  wounded,  could  be  found.  Blood  here,  blood 
pools  there,  told  the  story  of  the  battle.  Soon  after  night- 
time had  settled  over  both  victor  and  vanquished,  Night 
Bird,  one  of  the  Indian  Runners  from  Pamlico,  came  in  and 
reported  to  Colonel  Moore  that  Captain  Bryan  was  near  by 
with  the  picked  men,  and  would  readily  lend  their  aid. 
The  camp  was  in  a  fever  of  excitement  to  hear  the  news,  the 
result  of  the  Governor's  hasty  advance  to  Pamlico. 

Unusual  silence  reigned  within  the  walls  of  the  fort. 
Black  Wolf  and  his  braves  intuitively  divined  that  an 
occurrence  of  evil  import  had  happened  to  them,  that  the 
Carolinians  in  their  front  were  directed  by  a  power  hitherto 
unknown  in  their  tribal  calculations;  that  Rock  Heart  was 
deliberate,  relentless;  that  Long  Knife  was  impetuous  and 
unswerving  in  purpose.  But  Black  Wolf,  when  he  sur- 
veyed his  inclosure,  his  doubly-strong  fort,  his  many 
braves,  could  but  exultingly  flatter  himself  that  the  white 
race  is  doomed  to  destruction. 

The  sudden,  reckless  night  attack  of  the  Indians  had 
filled  Colonel  Moore  with  anxiety,  and  he  sent  for  Colonel 
Hecklefield  to  come  to  his  quarters  for  counsel. 

"Colonel  Hecklefield,  I  am  beset  with  gloom  and  desired 
to  have  you  with  me  to  confer  over  this  whirlwind  drive  at 
us  last  night.  Black  Wolf  is  a  middle-aged,  experienced 
warrior,  and  this  was  no  night  parade  of  his  braves." 

"I  agree  with  you,  Colonel  Moore,  that  there  must  have 
been  some  urgent  reason  for  him  to  come  out  and  strike  us." 


126  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 


-»i 


'Hecklefield,  could  it  be  possible  that  Black  Wolf  had 
become  aware  of  the  commander-in-chief's  absence?  or  has 
he  had  secret  intelligence  that  the  expedition  to  meet  the 
gathering  at  the  Pamlico  had  been  defeated  and  that  Gov- 
ernor Pollock  has  met  a  severe  reverse?" 

"Heaven  forbid!  Time  will  only  tell.  We  must  watch 
and  wait." 

"Well,  Hecklefield,  if  we  lose  out  here,  all  is  lost.  It 
behooves  us  to  reconsecrate  ourselves,  to  fight  them  unto 
death." 

A  scout  came  with  the  news  that  a  war  party  of  Catawbas 
and  Cherokees  were  making  their  way  down  east.  Captain 
Maule  was  sent  with  men  to  get  news,  if  any,  of  the  ap- 
proaching reinforcement  of  Indians.  Long  Bow,  an  old 
Indian  trader,  was  sent  along  with  Captain  Maule,  as  he 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  upper  and  the  lower  trails 
and  full  of  cunning.  At  early  nightfall  the  loud  beating 
of  the  tom-toms  was  heard.  Shouts  of  "Yah!  Yah!"  were 
were  heard  over  in  the  fort.  Indian  war  songs  filled  the 
air,  to  let  the  palefaces  know  that  the  red  men  had  beaten 
them  into  their  little  forts,  and  all  was  hope  and  cheer  in 
their  stockade.  Colonel  Moore  knew  it  was  one  of  Black 
Wolf's  deceptive  trickeries. 

The  night  attack  of  Black  Wolf  had  a  twofold  effect.  On 
Black  Wolf  there  fell  a  fear  for  the  future,  yet  he  knew  it 
was  best  to  treat  the  occurrence  lightly  with  revel  and  song. 
He  knew  from  observation  and  an  experience  of  many 
years  that  people  as  a  rule  love  a  good,  well-told  lie;  he  had 
only  to  consider  what  was  best  to  do  and  tell.  He  further 
knew  that  humankind  from  some  unknown  reason  live  in 
expectancy  of  some  revelation  from  the  Mysterious  Con- 
troller of  Events,  and  that  those  who  claimed  to  be  in  com- 
munication with  this  All-powerful  Spirit  are  the  ones  who 
will  have  these  secrets  imparted  to  them;  therefore  people 
fear  and  are  easily  led  by  these  dual  men,  priests  and 
medicine  diviners. 


Black  Wolfs  Night  Attack  127 

He  sought  Green  Turtle  and  unfolded  to  him  his  scheme, 
to  have  a  war  dance,  to  shout  defiance,  to  have  their  tom- 
tom tell  the  paleface  how  badly  he  was  beaten  by  them  in 
their  furious  night  attack;  that  if  he  (Green  Turtle)  would 
put  on  his  silver  beans,  his  boar  tusks,  and  his  medicine  bag 
and  go  with  him  the  braves  would  believe  and  be  comforted. 

Black  Wolf  saw  a  shudder  shake  the  frame  of  the  aged 
man  who  held  the  secret  mysteries.  Green  Turtle  replied : 
"Black  Wolf,  the  rising  sun  was  red  with  blood.  The 
Great  Spirit  made  my  fathers  and  me  medicine  men  and 
prophets.  We  dare  not  lie  to  the  Great  Spirit  nor  to  our 
tribe.  Do  what  you  think  best.  I  would  turn  to  a  squaw 
if  I  were  to  trifle  with  my  calling.  I  see  blood  and  bones. 
I  see  that  the  scepter  has  departed  from  these  sand  shores, 
these  smiling  streams,  these  deep  woods  once  held  firmly 
by  my  people!  but  now  all  are  gone!"  He  walked  away 
to  the  north  gate  with  fearsome  forebodings. 

Soon  after  reaching  the  fort,  the  commander-in-chief, 
Colonel  Moore,  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Hecklefield  sur- 
veyed, inspected  and  reconnoitered  the  premises  most  care- 
fully; and  thereupon  same  to  the  conclusion  that  the  east 
and  north  gates  were  the  most  important  to  guard  and  to 
storm.  Colonel  Moore  had  been  ordered,  as  soon  as  his 
plans  were  matured,  to  attack  at  once. 

From  a  deserter,  a  white  renegade  of  Lone  Jack,  Colonel 
Moore  was  informed  of  the  situation  in  the  fort;  that  Black 
Wolf  and  Mad  Calf  were  in  great  glee  and  that  water  and 
food  were  in  abundance.  He  placed  the  North  Carolinians 
against  the  north  gate,  the  South  Carolinians  against  the 
east. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Hecklefield  had  been  advised  to  make 
all  due  readiness  for  battle  and  have  his  men  keyed  up  to 
make  the  venture.  Captains  Bryan  and  Willis  were  or- 
dered to  be  ready  at  a  moment's  warning  to  attempt  the 
perilous  assault.  Captains  Maule  and  Kennedy,  with 
Chief  Rainbow's  braves  (select  men  from  King  Blount) 


128  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

to  be  ready  to  promptly  support  them.  Major  Innis,  an 
experienced  and  popular  soldier  of  the  Scotch  Fencibles, 
was  appointed  leader  of  the  assaulting  parties.  The 
morale  of  the  officers  and  men  was  most  excellent;  zeal  and 
hope  filled  every  heart. 

The  bands  of  friendly  Indians,  under  their  several  chiefs 
from  South  Carolina,  were  given,  with  some  ceremony,  the 
south  and  west  gates  for  them  to  scale  and  capture.  These 
Indians  hated  the  Tuscaroras  and  their  allies,  and  were 
eager  for  the  fight.  If  victorious,  they  intended  to  select 
bondsmen  from  the  tribes  of  Tuscaroras,  Senecas,  Core, 
Mohawk,  and  Little  Bear;  to  take  the  runaway  negroes  and 
half-breeds  and  sell  them  for  indemnity  to  West  India 
merchantmen. 

The  constant  bustle  and  combat  about  the  well-walled 
stronghold  had  made  the  wily  fox  seek  a  distant  burrow- 
ground,  where  she  could  mother  her  cubs  in  noiseless 
safety;  and  the  deer  had  timidly  withdrawn  to  a  far  away 
copsewood  where  she  might  calve  her  kind  in  restful  secu- 
rity. Man,  only  man,  remained  to  revel  and  romp,  amid 
the  clash  and  clamor;  courageously  facing  his  fate  in  the 
daily  deadly  dangers;  ready  to  laugh  in  the  very  throat  of 
death.  The  pent-up  fires  of  a  century  of  race  hatred  were 
now  to  burst  forth  in  violence,  like  unto  a  black  thunder- 
storm suddenly  enveloping  and  obscuring  all  daylight. 

In  defiance,  this  rampart  and  fortilage  of  Indian  sav- 
agery fronting  the  force  of  Carolina  was  to  be  defended 
with  might  and  main;  the  invincible  pressure  of  Christian 
civilization  and  the  improved  armor  of  the  time  was  to  be 
treated  with  scorn  and  contempt  by  the  bold,  hardy  warriors 
of  King  Hancock  and  Black  Wolf. 

Tomorrow's  early  dawn  will  hear  the  shouts  of  the  cap- 
tains and  the  chiefs;  and  the  roar  of  the  guns  will  stir  anon 
ancient  echoes  that  have  been  slumbering  for  ages  upon 
the  sedgy  banks  of  the  dark,  serpentine  Contentnea.  The 
decisive  issue — who  is  to  rule  and  govern  in  North  Caro- 
lina— was  at  hand:  is  it  to  be  the  white  or  the  red  man? 


XXI 


COLONEL  MOORE'S  ATTACK  ON  THE  INDIANS 

"/  dare  do  all  that  may  become  a  man, 
Who  dares  do  more  is  none." 

— Macbeth. 

Captain  Bryan  and  forces,  returning  to  camp,  gave  a 
rosy  glow  that  was  irrepressible.  Every  man,  white  and 
friendly  Indian,  gave  yelling  chorus  over  the  heart-hoped- 
for  news.  He  gave  Colonel  Moore  full  details  of  the  march 
and  the  fight,  and  informed  him  that  the  commander-in- 
chief  urged  an  early  attack;  that  he  would  come  on  as  soon 
as  he  could  arrange  matters  at  Edenton.  That  night  the 
heads  of  Little  Bull,  Star  Feathers,  and  Silver  Wave  were 
thrown  over  the  stockade  by  an  Indian  named  Jumper. 

The  heads  were  carried  to  Black  Wolf,  and  hundreds 
came  and  gazed  upon  the  faces  of  these  once  renowned, 
once  powerful  chiefs.  They  recognized  the  awful  import 
these  bloody-haired  skulls  imparted  to  them.  It  saddened 
every  heart,  and  it  nerved  every  heart  to  fight  the  white 
man  to  the  last  ditch. 

A  few  hundred  braves  from  New  York  and  Virginia  had 
at  midnight  slipped  through  the  lines,  and  they  brought 
news  that  the  whites  were  closing  up  every  gap  of  escape. 
Spotted  Crow  was  sent  out  to  find  King  Hancock  and  tell 
him  to  come  with  King  Peter  and  strike  the  whites  in  the 
rear,  and  Black  Wolf  would  attack  the  front.  Green  Turtle 
recognized  the  full  significance  of  the  sightless  eyes  of 
Little  Bull  and  the  others,  once  piercing  as  an  eagle's. 
He  knew  a  crisis  was  at  hand.  He  resharpened  his  toma- 
hawk.    His  finest  buckskin  dress  was  ready  for  him  to  put 

9  129 


130  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

on.  They  were  to  be  his  grave  clothes.  He  ordered  every 
brave  to  paint  his  face,  neck,  and  arms  red.  The  old,  the 
manly  brave,  Green  Turtle,  smote  his  breast  and  wailed 
aloud:  "I  see  our  campfires  are  out!  Our  braves  lie  dead 
and  bleeding!" 

Black  Wolf,  Big  Bear,  and  Mad  Calf  called  the  warriors' 
attention  to  the  fact  that  the  palefaces  were  a  long  way 
from  their  homes,  from  any  help;  that  the  men  were  leav- 
ing Long  Knife  and  going  back  to  the  settlements;  that 
their  fort  was  strong  and  the  meat,  beans,  and  rice  were 
plentiful;  that  to  win  the  fight  their  hunting  grounds  would 
be  their  own  again;  the  palefaces  would  be  driven  from  the 
land.     "Let's  fight,  let's  be  brave,  let's  be  men!" 

The  south  and  west  sally-ports,  or  gates,  were  to  be  the 
defensive,  the  east  and  the  north  were  to  be  the  offensive. 
Big  Bear  and  Swamp  Dog,  with  the  Tuscaroras,  were  to  be 
at  the  east;  the  Santees,  Nottoways,  Cores,  and  Contentneas 
were  to  be  a  strong  force  at  the  north;  the  Senecas,  Chero- 
kees,  and  Oneidas  were  to  care  for  the  west  and  south. 
Green  Turtle,  with  Mad  Calf,  held  the  north  gate.  The 
merciless  firing  of  the  whites  from  tree-top,  porthole, 
trenches  and  pavises  was  now  continuous.  The  little  can- 
non and  the  coehorn  were  mounted  and  placed;  extra 
ammunition  dealt  out,  three  days'  rations  had  been  cooked, 
scaling  ladders  were  ready,  and  every  man,  white  and  red, 
knew  the  time  was  at  hand  to  do  or  die. 

Colonel  Moore  did  not  doubt  but  the  main  intendment 
of  the  wily,  bloody-minded  foe  was  to  fight  off,  if  they 
could,  his  assaulting  forces,  and  if  the  worst  came,  to  break 
through  every  impediment,  either  at  the  east  or  north  gate, 
and  escape  toward  Chowan  or  over  the  lines  into  Virginia. 

At  sunrise  the  coehorn  opened  fire  on  the  east  and  the 
little  cannon  boomed  away  on  the  north.  After  an  hour's 
cannonade  the  men  were  ordered  to  go  forward,  and  the 
ladders  were  hastily  put  up  against  the  barricades  and  men 
mounted  them,  only  to  be  cast  down  by  blows  from  toma- 


Colonel  Moore's  Attack  on  the  Indians  131 

hawks  and  bludgeons.  Axes  were  hewing  down  the  sides 
of  the  barricade,  and  arrows  and  balls  were  poured  into  the 
faces  of  the  axmen.  The  assailants,  after  struggling  and 
fighting  for  hours,  were  repulsed  on  all  sides. 

Black  Wolf  sat  aloft  in  the  great  red  oak.  Colonel 
Moore  stood  upon  a  little  eminence,  watching  and  weighing 
the  result  of  the  day's  engagement.  That  night  he  ordered 
redans  to  be  erected  nearer  the  east  and  north  gates,  that 
the  coehorn  and  cannon  might  be  moved  closer  to  the  fort; 
bridges,  roughly  made,  were  to  be  in  readiness  to  throw 
across  and  be  pinned  down  so  the  men  could  cross  and 
stand  upon,  so  the  ladders  better  and  steadier  could  be 
placed  against  the  barricades.  Sappers  were  sent  to  tunnel 
under  the  south  gate,  that  when  the  pinch  came  the  south 
gate  was  to  be  blown  open  so  a  rush  in  could  be  made, 
thereby  creating  confusion  in  the  minds  of  the  fort's  de- 
fenders. 

The  night  was  pleasantly  cool,  the  men  slept  on  their 
arms.  Colonel  Moore  had  visited  his  miners  and  encour- 
aged them,  the  redans  were  pushed  to  completion. 

Black  Wolf  was  seated  in  the  top  branches  of  the  great 
red-oak  tree,  protected  by  his  bullhide  shields.  He  care- 
fully scanned  the  camp  of  Colonel  Moore  and  watched 
without  blinking  the  preparations  being  made  by  the  whites 
for  the  coming  assault. 

The  coarse  growl  of  Big  Bear  was  heard,  the  sharp, 
wolfish  barking  of  Swamp  Dog,  the  low  bellowing  of  Mad 
Calf,  aroused  the  fighting  qualities  of  the  braves.  Green 
Turtle  stood  near  the  gate,  his  face  painted  red,  his  hand 
on  his  tomahawk,  his  eye  on  the  enemy.  Both  sides  were 
tired  of  waiting  and  watching;  the  crash  had  to  come — let 
it  come. 

The  Indians  were  not  careless;  they  showered  arrows  on 
their  white  adversaries;  they  quickly  shot  every  exposed 
head,  any  and  everybody  that  came  in  sight.  Runners  (or 
orderlies)  kept  in  call  of  Black  Wolf.     Every  Indian  knew 


132  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

that  he  had  a  bloody  task  before  him.  Their  main  men 
went  amongst  them  and  called  to  them,  "Be  of  courage, 
courage,  be  brave!" 

The  goodly  store  that  Black  Wolf  had  put  away  for  him- 
self, his  half-brother,  and  Green  Turtle's  private  use  was 
brought  out  and  spread  for  any  comers  to  his  quarters. 
"Marrowfat" — the  oil  from  the  buffalo  bones — select  buf- 
falo meat  powdered,  pemmican  sundried,  dried  currants, 
mutaged  grapes  and  chestnuts.  Spoons  were  used  of  highly 
polished  jet-black  buffalo  horns,  and  curiously  wrought 
spoons  of  the  horns  of  the  mountain  rams.  Many  came 
and  ate  moderately,  calmly,  silently. 

Mona,  the  West  African  monkey,  olive  green  colored, 
purchased  from  a  Trinidad  trader  by  Clear  Water  with 
otter  skins,  frisked  and  grinned,  relishing  the  chestnuts  and 
the  pemmican.  Black  Wolf  and  Green  Turtle  stood  grave, 
impressive.  It  was  a  solemn  feast  of  brothers  before  the 
battle.  The  result  was  uncertain;  but  the  vital  crisis  was 
known  to  each  and  every  Tuscarora  brave,  and  every  white 
settler  knew  it  was  victory  or  death. 

The  second  day's  work  was  continued  firing  on  every 
portion  of  the  fort,  and  the  heavy  guns  battered  the  east 
and  north  gates. 

The  third  day  the  cannon  and  coehorn  were  nearer  the 
fort,  and  better  situated  for  effective  work.  The  sappers 
had  the  south  gate  mined  by  noon;  the  powder  horns  had 
all  been  refilled.  At  noon  again  the  cannon  opened,  and 
for  an  hour  sand,  timbers,  and  Indians  were  battered.  The 
range  had  been  perfected  and  every  shot  was  telling  on  the 
barricade  and  fort.  Colonel  Moore  visited  the  several 
posts  and  spoke  encouragingly  to  his  men. 

A  general  assault  was  ordered  at  two  o'clock;  the  officers 
vied  with  each  other  in  gallantry.  Bridges,  ladders,  scalers, 
were  put  in  motion;  the  barricades  were  carried,  but  the 
defenders  retreated  within  their  fort,  fighting  hard.  A 
great  yell  went  up  from  the  whites,  a  great  war-whoop 


Colonel  Moore's  Attack  on  the  Indians  133 

went  up  from  the  reds.  Without  delaying,  the  fort  was 
ordered  to  be  stormed,  the  sappers  ordered  to  immediately 
blow  down  the  south  gate.  A  great  noise  was  heard  and  the 
south  gate  was  blown  to  atoms. 

Black  Wolf's  "Rahk"  was  now  heard,  and  hundreds  of 
his  braves  rushed  to  defend  the  blown-down  wall  gate. 
Over  the  fallen  walls  of  the  fort  scrambled  Moore's  fierce 
warriors,  now  inside,  now  face  to  face,  the  white  and  the 
red  race.  The  two  races  rushed  headlong  on  each  other  in 
deadly  hate  and  closed  in  mortal  combat. 


XXII 

THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  TUNNEL 

"As  the  apple  tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood, 
So  is  my  beloved  among  men." 

When  given  her  full  liberty,  when  she  could  gather  her 
senses  so  that  she  might  master  the  situation,  Miss  Irene 
Ormond,  in  tears  piteously  begged  to  be  shown  the  man  of 
her  heart's  adoration.  Those  best  acquainted  with  the 
facts  knew  that  her  lover  had  fallen  in  the  fight.  He  out- 
stripped every  one,  he  was  the  most  daring.  Love  lent 
him  wings;  love  braced  his  brave,  loving  heart.  Being 
assured  that  "in  the  turmoil,"  in  "the  scaling  of  the  pali- 
sades," and  that  the  "Indians  were  being  pursued,"  and 
that  when  he  returned  he  would  claim  her  his  cherished 
bride,  her  woman's  heart  feared  prophetically.  She  said 
sobbingly,  "I  heard  John's  gun.  John  Lyon  is  dead  or  he 
would  be  here." 

Poor  woman!  She  had  been  reserved  for  Black  Wolf, 
but  fate  had  decreed  not  so.  She  went  in  and  came  out  of 
the  tunnel  stainless  and  untouched.  Had  the  prayers  of 
her  sainted  mother,  whose  body  was  mouldering  in  the  old 
family  graveyard,  been  recorded  in  the  Golden  Book  of 
Grace?  Had  an  angel  been  sent  to  encamp  around  about 
her?  0,  how  little  we  know  of  the  inscrutable  rulings,  the 
mysteries  of  Divinity!  How  He  ordains  the  preservation 
of  His  saints! 

When  fair  Irene  Ormond  came  out  into  the  blessed  sun- 
light her  faithful  heart  beat  in  ecstacy,  her  face  beamed 
expectancy.  Beneath  the  old  mimosa  tree  at  home  she  had 
plighted  her  vows  with  John  Lyon,  her  old  playmate — and 

134 


The  Woman  in  the  Tunnel  135 

now!  The  hurrying  by  of  others  was  no  longer  noticed  by 
her.  The  strain  was  too  great.  Her  sweet  spirit's  pinions 
had  borne  her  stainless  better  self  across  the  river's  rim. 
She  had  passed  to  meet  her  loved  one  beyond  the  smiling, 
sunless  sea.  Grimy-faced  men,  with  tears  trickling  down 
their  bearded  cheeks,  stood  over  her  lifeless  body,  their 
rough,  unkempt  heads  uncovered. 

The  small,  pale  lips  of  Irene  Ormond  were  closed.  Every 
portion  semblative  of  a  woman  was  still.  Her  brother  and 
his  friends,  Darden,  Best,  and  Hardy,  bore  her  to  her  old 
home  not  far  away,  and  placed  her  reverently  beside  her 
mother.  Ah!  say  what  you  will — when  the  geranium's 
leaf  is  faded,  dead,  it  still  issues  a  fragrance.  Tread  upon, 
bruised,  and  broken,  it  still  gives  out  its  last  fond  breath 
and  pervades  sweetly  the  distance.      (See  notes.) 

The  tale  told  hushed  every  heart.  The  camp  felt  a  hurt, 
loss,  a  twang  roughly  had  been  wrung  upon  the  bow.  The 
armed  troop  felt  a  throat-gripping.  Oh,  love!  woman's 
love!  Petulant,  unreasonable,  yet  it  is  unmarketable. 
Nature  sickens  at  the  thought  that  such  a  priceless  com- 
modity should  be  purchasable.  Never,  no  never,  was 
woman's  deathless  love  a  mere  pageantry.  Her  voice  has 
ever  been  heavenly  music  to  man,  her  bosom  the  pillow  to 
soothe  his  wearied  brain.  Was  it  intended  for  man  to 
understand  woman?  No.  Does  he  desire  passionately  to 
understand  her?  Yes.  Beyond  the  ken  of  the  male  his 
mate  intuitively  hides  her  most  cherished,  one  might  say, 
her  most  sacred  propensities,  because  she  knows  man  is 
compelled  to  largely  believe  in  brute  force,  compelled  by 
his  very  .makeup  for  rough  estimates.  He  lacks  in  the  deli- 
cate appreciation  of  the  female's  superior  divination.  Her 
peculiarities  perplex  him.  Man  would  declare  his  purpose 
and  openly  avow  his  intentions;  the  woman  would  say, 
"Wait,  watch  for  your  adversary's  declaratory  move." 
And  she  looks  for  love,  for  caresses,  and  she  wishes  him 
to  be  actively  interested  in  her  every  whim  and  every  hurt. 


136  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Her  frailty  forces  her  to  seek  protection  and  sustenance, 
and  her  desire  is  to  pay  all  with  her  unfathomable  devo- 
tion. And,  most  queer,  she  will  dominate  him  if  he  will 
tolerate  it,  and  toward  him  feel  a  suppressed  aversion. 
There  is  in  every  man's  bosom  a  wish  to  hear  of  devotion, 
there  is  in  man  a  clamorous  desire  to  hear  the  story  of 
woman's  constancy.  His  very  soul  listens  to  hear  the 
footsteps  of  a  confiding,  loving  heart  hastening  to  the  tryst 
or  the  tomb  of  her  beloved. 

Say  what  we  will,  there  comes  a  time  in  every  life  when 
a  painless  death  is  much  coveted,  the  snatched  away  by 
death  of  a  life  loved  companion,  the  tire  of  meeting  the 
foamy  tides  of  strife,  the  keen  cuttings  of  bitter  rivalries 
by  base  competitors.  It  makes  one  prefer  a  silent  inter- 
ment, to  be  forevermore  removed  from  these  implacable 
dislikes  and  heart  worries;  in  the  grave  resting,  withdrawn 
from  hates  and  contumelies,  safe  within  the  silent  city, 
at  rest! 

John  Lyon  was  dead;  he  died  struggling  to  save  Irene, 
his  faithful,  his  unchangeable  Irene.  0,  fairest  flower, 
how  untimely  faded!  Now  rudely  enringed  about  her 
lifeless  body  are  embattled  barbarians  and  deadly  armed 
friends.  The  groans  of  the  dying  she  hears  not.  In  God's 
own  good  time  they  will  meet  again,  reunited,  and  face  to 
face,  heart  to  heart,  sing  forever  of  heaven  and  love,  fair- 
ness and  faith. 

The  relatives  and  pall-bearers  walked  away,  leaving 
their  bodies  entombed  in  the  graveyard  of  her  people, 
there  to  remain  (not  their  spirits)  until  that  day  when  the 
trumpet  of  Gabriel  shall  be  heard  by  every  ear,  both  the 
quick  and  the  dead. 

"We  see  not  the  bright  light,  which  is  in  the  clouds." 


XXIII 

AFTER  THE  BATTLE  WAS  OVER 

"And  each  dumb  gun  a  brave  man's  monument — yea — 
Give  me  the  peace  of  dead  men,  or  of  the  brave." 

The  North  Carolinians  were  delirious  with  joy.  They 
wept,  they  hugged  each  other  and  shouted  themselves  hoarse 
over  such  a  gracious  victory.  Colonel  Moore  was  slightly 
wounded  in  several  places.  Captain  Bryan  was  toma- 
hawked, but  not  dead.  Colonel  Hecklefield,  although  well 
advanced  in  years,  fought  like  a  tiger.  Lieutenant  Wood 
was  killed  and  Lieutenant  Carr  fatally  shot.  The  two 
states  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  which  should  be  the  first 
to  mount  the  palisade.  Captain  Jones  was  found  badly 
wounded  within  the  fort.  The  killed  of  the  whites  were 
decently  buried  and  marked  and  the  wounded  were  sent 
to  the  large  flat — the  floating  hospital. 

"Governor,  I  hope  your  son  is  not  seriously  wounded.  I 
saw  him  and  Mad  Calf  fighting  inside  the  north  gate." 

"The  doctor  assures  me  he  will  recover;  thank  you, 
Colonel." 

Captain  Maule  and  many  other  officers  suffered  from 
arrow  wounds.  The  victory  complete,  the  thirst  for  re- 
venge gratified,  the  men  commenced  considering  what 
trophies  each  wanted  to  carry  back  home.  All  felt  the  war 
was  virtually  over.  The  long  years  of  blood  and  horror 
were  nearing  their  end,  and  the  white  man  was  in  the  saddle. 
The  red  man,  fleeing  through  brake  and  wood,  over  lake 
and  sound,  his  power  broken  forever.  The  question  be- 
came common,  "When  are  we  to  march  for  home,  boys?" 

South  Carolina  will  ever  be  held  in  highest  esteem  by 

137 


138  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

all  North  Carolinians.  The  South  Carolina  allies  were 
treated  with  great  respect,  and  a  thousand  "God  bless  you, 
boys!"  were  showered  upon  them.  The  commander-in- 
chief  publicly  thanked  them  for  North  Carolina  and  gave 
praise  to  their  brave  and  timely  help. 

The  Governor  and  Colonel  Moore,  although  wounded, 
walked  slowly  over  the  well-planned  and  bravely  defended 
fort.  In  the  center  was  a  very  large  oak  tree.  The  great 
tunnel  was  examined,  and  in  it  were  found  three  white 
women  who  were  hysterical  with  the  knowledge  that  they 
were  rescued.  The  wounded  Indians  had  been  brought  in 
that  they  might  be  out  of  danger  and  near  water.  Colonel 
Moore  knew  several,  and  among  them  was  Swamp  Dog, 
Little  Tree,  and  Mad  Calf.  They  were  bleeding  from  fatal 
wounds,  and  were  unable  to  stand.  These  warriors  boldly 
looked  their  captors  in  the  face,  man  to  man.  A  large 
amount  of  provisions  was  found,  keen  tomahawks  every- 
where, and  thousands  of  arrows.  Green  Turtle  lay  dead 
near  the  north  gate,  and  many  braves  lay  near  him  in  death. 

"Colonel  Moore,  could  Black  Wolf  have  gotten  away 
without  mortal  hurt?" 

"I  can't  say.  The  fighting  was  so  fierce  today  on  both 
sides  that  I  lost  sight  of  him.  He  and  Uwarrie  and  Clear 
Water  fought  side  by  side." 

"Colonel,  what  has  become  of  Captain  Maule?" 

"Captain  Maule  and  his  men  were  to  storm  the  north 
gate,  and  the  loss  on  both  sides  there  was  considerable.  I 
can't  account  for  his  absence." 

"Colonel  Moore,  this  great  far-reaching  victory  is  yours, 
in  deed  and  in  truth." 

"Governor,  you  are  very  kind.  Tell  me  who  managed 
to  get  together  these  men  and  the  vital  supplies?  Who 
advanced  money  out  of  his  own  pocket  for  the  Colony? 
Who  dealt  successfully  with  Virginia  and  South  Carolina? 
Who  neutralized  the  rancor  of  the  Quakers?  Who  out- 
witted faultfinding  Moseley?     Who,  by  threat  and  promise 


After  the  Battle  Was  Over  139 

won  over  King  Blount?  Whose  valuable  gifts  stayed  King 
Peter's  hand?  Whose  name  checked  the  turbulent  Meher- 
rins?  Who  so  timely  struck  on  the  Pamlico  River  those 
under  Tall  Feather?  And,  in  God's  name,  who  has  striven 
with  might  and  main  against  heart-sickening  difficulties  to 
rally  and  save  the  white  race?  Let  me  place  honor  where 
honor  is  due."      (See  notes.) 

"As  soon  as  I  reach  home  I  shall  acquaint  your  Governor 
Craven  with  the  news  of  your  glorious  victory,  and  how 
nobly  all  of  your  men,  Indians  and  all,  fought  to  win  the 
fight.  Now,  Colonel,  go  and  get  aboard  the  schooner  for 
New  Bern,  and  from  there  we  will  sail  for  Balgray  in  a 
few  days.     Come  home  with  me  and  take  a  needed  rest. 

"I  thankfully  accept  your  kind  offer." 

The  white  soldiers  were  satisfied,  and  all  marched  mer- 
rily for  New  Bern.  The  friendly  Indians  of  both  sections 
were  allowed  to  take  from  the  fort  whatever  they  preferred, 
and  among  other  things,  they  took  and  carried  away  many 
hostile  braves  and  sold  them  into  slavery. 

The  North  Carolinians  gave  unmeasured  applause  to 
Colonel  Moore  and  the  officers  and  men  under  him.  "All 
Carolina  will  sound  your  praises!"  Great  rejoicing  filled 
the  camp  and  field.  Everywhere  you  could  hear,  "We 
fought  the  fight  and  have  won!  Now  for  home,  for  wife 
and  baby.     We've  cut  the  tap-root!     Rah!  boys,  rah!" 

Everybody  had  been  made  aware  that  there  were  white 
captives  in  the  fort — women — and  that  they  were  in  a 
tunnel  that  had  been  dug  to  a  stream  to  obtain  an  under- 
ground flow  of  water  for  the  stockade.  A  search  was 
ordered. 

The  whites,  according  to  returns,  lost  heavily  in  officers 
and  men,  and  the  friendly  Indians'  losses  were  considerably 
more  numerically.  Black  Wolf's  loss  of  men  was  great, 
and  it  is  unknown  to  this  day  what  became  of  this  bold 
fighter.  Whether  he  died  fighting  at  the  east  gate  and  was 
unrecognized  in  the  heap  of  the  slain,  or  that  he  escaped 


140  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

and  passed  his  last  days  in  the  lovely  Mohawk  Valley 
amongst  his  kinsmen,  the  warlike  Iroquois. 

The  dead  attested  the  bravery  of  those  who  had  gathered 
to  defend  the  fort.  It  was  about  four  acres  in  size,  and 
every  tree  and  shrub  had  been  cut  down  within  three  hun- 
dred yards  of  it.  Green  Turtle  and  Black  Wolf,  Mad  Calf 
and  Big  Bear  had  to  give  up  the  fort,  but  they  put  up  a 
fight  for  their  people  unsurpassed  in  the  annals  of  colonial 
history.  Their  dead  lay  in  heaps.  The  white  man  won, 
but  won  through  blood!  These  children  of  the  woodlands, 
these  red  warriors  of  the  forest,  untutored  in  arts,  unlearned 
in  history,  yet  they  faced  up  with  arrow  and  tomahawk 
against  powder  and  ball,  cannon  and  sword.  No  trombone, 
pibroch,  or  bugle  to  arouse  their  martial  ardor.  They  fell 
back  on  their  manhood,  their  native  courage,  and  con- 
tended for  their  hunting  grounds,  until  bruised,  bleeding, 
and  beaten,  they  were  forced  to  pass  underneath  the  yoke 
of  racial  victorious  supremacy.  Where  did  such  people 
come  from?  They  must  be  one  of  the  lost  tribes  of  Israel. 
They  had  no  colleges  endowed!  no,  not  a  schoolhouse,  no 
sky-kissing  tabernacle,  no  sheriff,  no  jails.  No,  but  they 
were  warriors  bold  and  true;  they  loved  their  tribe,  wor- 
shiped the  Great  Spirit,  and  were  free  and  died  freemen! 


XXIV 


PEACE 


"For  lol  the  winter  is  past,  the  voice  of  the  turtle  dove  is  heard 
in  our  land." 

After  the  men  had  been  disbanded  they  returned  to  their 
homes  by  twos  and  threes,  and  the  people  as  a  whole  felt 
speechless  when  assured  by  a  short  proclamation  that  the 
war  was  over.  Bonfires  were  built  everywhere,  meat  roasts 
and  bounteous  feastings  were  celebrated  in  both  Edenton 
and  New  Bern. 

The  women  in  joyful  acclaim  sang  "Roland  the  Brave." 

A  rainbow  arched  the  Colony  sky.  No  longer  cruel 
suspense  filled  every  heart  and  home.  The  barbed  arrow 
was  laid  to  rest,  and  now  the  blood-curdling  war  whoop  was 
to  be  only  remembered  as  a  hideous  dream.  Now  the 
struggling  passions  could  be  calmed  in  the  sweet  measures 
of  tranquillity. 

Edenton's  best  and  bravest,  Edenton's  purest  and  fairest, 
the  chivalry,  the  yeomanry  of  Craven  gathered.  Prayers 
of  thankfulness,  songs  of  praise  from  grateful  hearts  as- 
cended to  the  Great  White  Throne  of  Mercy.  In  the  gath- 
ering of  the  citizens  addresses  were  made  expressing  abid- 
ing confidence  in  the  courage  and  sagacity  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief and  extolling  the  valor  and  steadiness  of 
the  officers  and  the  men.  Every  man  who  had  served  his 
time  faithfully  was  made  to  feel  that  he  was  held  in  the 
highest  esteem  by  his  admiring  countrymen. 

Delegates  were  requested  to  go  invite  the  commander- 
in-chief  to  come  and  sit  with  them,  and  with  them  enjoy 
the  great  happiness  of  the  occasion.  A  new  sun  of  rose 
and  gold  painted  the  eastern  horizon.     At  Balgray  they 

141 


142  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

were  warmly  received;  he  begged  to  be  excused,  that  the 
state  of  his  health  forced  him  to  remain  at  home  and  rest 
for  a  few  weeks ;  that  the  kind  notice  taken  of  his  command 
filled  his  heart  with  profound  delight.  The  visitors  deli- 
cately apprised  him  of  their  feelings;  that  now  the  ship  of 
state,  freighted  with  the  fortunes  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race, 
had  ridden  triumphantly  the  waves  of  tumult  and  carnage, 
and  anchored  safely  in  the  harbor  of  Peace. 

Every  one  knew  that  stronger  foundations  had  been  laid 
for  Carolina,  that  the  midnight  watchings  were  at  an  end, 
that  every  bush  held  not  a  haunted  shadow;  that  civiliza- 
tion and  savagery  had  met  on  the  fatal  field  of  Nohoroco; 
that  the  shoutings  of  the  captains  were  now  hushed,  the 
mettlesome  fife  was  resting  now  beside  the  spinning  wheel. 

The  Tuscaroras  were  killed,  captured  or  driven  north- 
ward to  join  the  Five  Nations.  Night  had  turned  to  a  glo- 
rious, beauteous  morning.  Every  house  was  open  and 
table  fare  free  to  every  soldier.  The  wounded  were  cared 
for,  the  dead  revered  and  grieved  after.  The  women  of 
the  land,  overjoyed,  anxiously  assisted  to  care  for  the  hurt 
ones,  and  sympathized  with  those  who  had  lost  loved  ones. 
A  long,  sweet  breath  was  taken.  Peace,  sweet  Peace,  had 
come  again! 

The  burned  home  places  could  be  revisited,  the  bones  of 
the  butchered  could  be  gathered  and  decently  buried  by 
those  who  had  loved  them  while  living.  The  hoot  of  the 
owl  was  not  now  to  cause  suspicion  that  maybe  Lone  Jack's 
braves  were  coming,  or  cruel  King  Hancock  was  scheming 
against  their  lives,  their  property,  their  liberty — but  no — 
but  lo!  White-winged  Peace  was  mirrored  in  the  wavelets 
of  the  eastern  waters,  and  that  this  infant  province  would 
be  reared  by  God's  blessing,  cemented  by  the  sweat  and 
blood  of  her  sons,  enhaloed  by  the  tears  and  prayers  of  her 
daughters,  into  an  empire  of  grandeur,  to  be  loved  and  to 
be  feared. 

Peace,  precious  peace,  Selah! 


XXV 


WILMINGTON  TO  EDENTON 

"Here  neither  bush  nor  shrub 
To  bear  off  any  weather, 
Another  storm  a'  brewing, 
I  hear  it  sing  in  the  wind." 

The  Isabelle  McNaughton  had  been  afloat  above  water- 
line  for  ten  days  and  was  now  being  stored  with  merchant- 
able articles.  Her  cabin  had  the  lake  and  clan  colors, 
black  and  red,  and  the  trailing  azalea.  Colmey  had  se- 
cured passage  for  self  and  horse,  and  had  for  his  cabin 
companion  one  Mr.  Banbury  of  Edenton,  about  his  age. 

The  vessel  passed  out  of  the  Cape  Fear  for  Edenton  at 
eight-twenty  in  the  morning,  clear  wind  south  and  smooth 
sea.  Captain  Islay  spoke  to  Mr.  Colmey  pleasantly:  "The 
weather  while  in  port  was  stokey,  but  now  we  will  have  sea 
air  charged  with  ozone,  that  will  clear  our  lungs  up  sat- 
isfactorily." 

The  Livingston,  bound  for  New  York,  was  loaded  with 
naval  stores  and  was  passing  in  calling  distance.  The 
Isabelle  made  her  way  so  easily  that  she  seemed  a  part  and 
parcel  of  the  crystal  sea.  Nicely  framed  was  to  be  seen 
the  McNaughton  colors;  there  a  castle  by  the  waterside, 
and  there  the  tartan  of  the  clan,  black  and  red  and  brown, 
to  enhance  the  scenic  effect.  An  English  coehorn,  cap- 
tured, was  resting  above  the  well-executed  oil  painting. 
Colmey,  seeing  it,  felt  happy  to  think  he  was  far  away  from 
Culloden,  where  the  tartans  and  the  philibeg  and  the  wild 
strains  of  the  bagpipe  would  be  heard  by  him  no  more 
forever. 

143 


144  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

The  Fryingpan,  dangerous  and  treacherous,  was  to  be 
looked  after,  and  a  man  from  the  main-chains  had  been 
ordered  aloft  to  keep  watch  from  the  ratlings.  Colmey 
was  almost  overpowered  with  sleepiness.  The  night  before 
he  was  up  late  seeing  safely  stored  for  future  shipping  his 
surface-gage,  his  compass,  box  of  compass  chains,  books, 
etc.  The  Isabelle  was  now  making  seven  knots  an  hour. 
As  he  was  resting  beside  the  gunwale  the  sea  terns  were 
making  graceful  dives  and  blinking  curlews  were  dipping 
and  diving  a  la  abandon.  They  seemed  to  have  no  fear  of 
the  wide  expanse  of  water,  nor  for  a  moment  distrusted 
their  strength  of  wing  to  bear  them  safely  to  the  sand  hills, 
should  necessity  or  desire  demand  it.  A  school  of  dol- 
phins and  dolphinets  frolicked  about  the  vessel  in  their 
delight,  being  almost  as  beautifully  marked  as  colored 
sea-breams.  Some  raced  by  the  starboard  and  others  by 
the  lee,  and  chased  one  another  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
brightness  of  the  day  and  the  beauty  of  the  deep.  Others 
seemed  to  feed  upon  something  in  the  eddying  waters, 
appetizingly  a  watery  condiment  supplied  by  an  unseen 
hand. 

Colmey  felt  the  waste  space  grow  upon  him  in  mystery 
and  majesty.  The  blue  vault  mirrored  in  sheeny  waves 
was  to  him  a  study,  and  it  had  a  scenic  attraction  all  its 
own,  illimitable  and  indescribable;  outrivaling  by  far  the 
white  cattle  of  Scotland  at  Chillingham  Castle  grazing  on 
the  green  hillsides.  He  asked  himself,  "Why  should  man 
grow  old,  why  do  the  muscles  lose  their  suppleness,  their 
chemical  tone ;  eyesight  its  acuteness,  and  purpose  its  tenac- 
ity? The  stars,  the  firmament,  the  earth,  the  broad,  deep 
sea,  are  each  and  all  severally  eternally  young."  He  rea- 
soned that  they  were  governed  by  natural  laws  only;  but 
man,  Godlike  man,  was  triply  endowed.  He  was  directed 
and  controlled  triply  by  laws. 

The  captain  and  the  crew  of  the  Isabelle,  from  bowlines 
to  topgallant,  from  pennant  to  spanker  boom,  seemed  to  be 


Wilmington  to  Edenton  145 

in  harmony  with  the  wind  and  the  weather,  and  all  silently 
rejoiced  at  the  home-course  speed  the  ship  was  easily  mak- 
ing. Colmey  silently  considered  that  earth  and  sea  and  all 
therein  was  made  for  man's  profit  and  pleasure. 

"Once  a  sailor  before  the  mast,  always  a  sailor."  Of  all 
the  vocations  of  men  the  sailor's  is  the  most  dangerous  and 
the  lowest  rated.  They  are  by  nature  at  birth  endowed 
with,  or  the  sea  kindly  gives  them,  a  subtle  sense,  incompre- 
hensible to  a  landsman,  by  which  they  can  quite  accurately 
determine  the  condition  of  the  tides  by  which  they  are 
surrounded.  The  swinging  hammock  to  one  of  these  rovers 
is  as  a  cradle  to  a  child  that  is  rocked  by  the  ever-watchful 
mother.  The  mighty  rolling  ocean  soothes  his  composite 
nature  and  absorbs  his  thoughts;  and  being  tossed  from 
side  to  side  makes  him  feel  a  sweet  restfulness  akin  to  the 
glebeman  when  he  stretches  himself  upon  his  board  bed 
after  a  strenuous  day  of  toil — usage  is  all. 

He  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  a  horrible  dream,  and  was 
awakened  by  the  lurching  of  the  vessel  and  a  nautical 
clamor  between  boatswain  and  marines.  On  getting  fully 
awake  he  became  aware  that  a  southwester  was  rapidly 
coming  up.  He  went  at  once  to  see  if  Merlin  was  well 
fastened,  and  that  his  bridle  and  saddle  were  in  place.  A 
fear  seized  upon  Colmey  as  he  had  never  experienced 
before.  A  long,  streaky  cloud  like  a  mare's  tail  hung  in  the 
southwest,  and  from  blue  to  gray,  and  from  gray  to  black, 
the  clouds  gathered.  He  murmured,  "I  am  now  unnerved. 
I  feel  well  nigh  sea-swallowed." 

As  he  witnessed  the  waves  now  breaking  over  the  taff  rail 
without  hindrance,  "Oh,  God!"  he  said,  "if  we  were  all  only 
safe  in  the  harbor,  instead  of  on  the  wild,  angry  sea." 
Colmey  sought  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  the  captain,  and 
he  found  him  and  his  boatswain,  Nichol,  in  conference  on 
the  foredeck  of  the  now  plunging  three-master. 

"Mr.  Colmey,  to  read  of  a  storm  at  sea,  sitting  safely 
under  one's  own  protective  rooftree,  is  quite  a  different 
10 


146  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

affair  when  one  is  out,  the  heavens  high  above  and  water 
deep,  fathoms  uncalculable,  beneath." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Banbury,  to  be  far  out  upon  the  wind-whipped 
waves,  no  land  in  sight,  is  a  proposition  the  contemplation 
of  which  affords  no  solid  enjoyment." 

The  captain  and  his  officer  were  anxiously  eyeing  an 
ominious  cloud  coming  up  from  the  southwest.  The  captain 
betrayed  a  painful  concern,  the  officer  an  uncontrollable 
alarm. 

"Nichol,  are  you  versed  in  chaomancy?" 

"Captain,  unless  I  mistake  the  signs,  that  fellow  means  a 
two-fold  vexation,  and  it  is  not  far  ahead  of  us." 

The  reply  the  captain  made  was,  "See  to  the  safety  of 
the  ship,  and  go  at  once;  things  look  gloomy." 

The  cloud  had  grown  larger,  the  sea  waves  dashed  over 
the  combings,  the  low  alarming  rumble  of  thunder  was 
heard  in  the  distance,  and  the  bosom  of  the  deep  seemed 
darkly  troubled  and  betokened  a  heavy  sea  and  fearsome 
wind.  The  officer  called  his  men  in  a  tone  of  authority, 
but  also  of  perplexity.  The  vessel  was  made  to  haul  off, 
the  sails  were  close  reefed,  the  hatches,  catholes  and  yards 
were  belayed,  and  every  precaution  taken  for  the  safety  of 
men  and  ship.  Now  could  be  seen  long-winged  stormy 
petrels  flying  with  cries  to  windward,  evil  portent  to  the 
soul  of  superstitious  seamen. 

The  wind  came  on  at  a  terrific  pace  and  struck  the  Isa- 
belle  hard  amidships  on  the  windward  side.  The  whole 
world  seemed  at  once  to  have  turned  to  water,  and  all 
powers  were  delegated  to  the  furious  gale.  All  hands 
were  called  from  the  forecastle,  and  every  sailor  was  at 
attention,  but  they  found  it  difficult  to  keep  from  being 
swept  overboard  into  the  boiling  sea. 

"Tammy,  good  heart,  not  a  bit  do  I  like  yonder  mackerel 
sky." 

"Neither  do  I,  Davey;  our  lives  are  not  worth  a  bodie, 
and  afore  morning  I  am  a-thinking  we  will  be  bait  for 
Johnny  Grin'el." 


Wilmington  to  Edenton  147 

All  passengers  were  ordered  to  cabins.  Wind  and  foam 
beat  mercilessly  upon  the  helpless  Isabelle,  and  she  had 
commenced  showing  signs  of  distress  and  disintegration. 

"Tammy  Minch,  I  fear  dear  poor  Davey  Aprice  will 
never  see  agin  the  Cambrian  Hills." 

"Your  hand,  Davey.  A  billock  more  and  we  are  lost. 
Farewell  to  you,  messmate,  and  to  fair  Greenoch  for  aye." 

The  Isabelle  was  now  moving  down  wind  with  fearful 
velocity.  "Port  helm!"  "Aye,  aye,  sir!"  "Make  for 
Bogue  Inlet!"  Every  heart  answered  the  command;  the 
vessel  made  the  inlet. 

"Hard  put  for  shore,"  and  she  made  straight  for  Swans- 
boro.  Colmey,  being  in  earshot,  heard  the  boatswain  say 
to  the  captain,  "I  fear  me,  sir,  some  of  us  will  sniff  sand 
before  dog-watch." 

"Well,  Nichol,  I  would  fain  die  between  dry  sheets,  but, 
by  St.  Peter!  we  have  known  many  a  good  fellow  who  has 
had  for  his  winding-wrap  a  green,  briny  wave,  and  his 
head  pillowed  on  sea  sand  seeds." 

Mr.  Banbury  came  up  and  said,  "Mr.  Colmey,  the  Isa- 
belle  is  in  irons,  and  the  captain  has  given  up  for  lost. 
Please  help  strap  us."  After  Colmey  had  securely  strapped 
Banbury  and  Nichol  to  a  short  mast,  he  made  haste  to 
examine  the  bridle  and  saddle  of  Merlin.  He  carefully 
looked  to  the  girths,  he  secured  his  coat  and  hat  and  boots 
to  the  cantel  of  his  saddle,  fixed  on  his  sherry  vallies  to  the 
pommel,  and  made  ready  for  the  worst.  The  waves  rolled 
frightfully  high,  and  the  air  smelt  of  sulphur  and  the  wind 
hissed  and  laughed  at  feeble  humanity's  fears.  In  front 
of  the  little  hamlet  could  be  seen  people  watching  the  storm- 
tossed  ship.  Loud  cracking  noises  were  heard  at  intervals 
as  if  the  vessel  was  breaking  asunder,  and  the  timbers  of 
the  keel  were  parting.  The  waters  churned  up  deep  sea- 
weed and  black  tang.  All  felt  intuitively  that  the  end  was 
at  hand.     Every  face  filled  with  intolerable  suspense  as 


148  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

the  Isabelle  trembled  from  bow  to  stern.  The  captain 
shouted  stridently,  "Take  care  of  yourselves  who  can.  All's 
lost." 

Mainsail  was  gone,  flying  jib  and  braces  and  stays  gone, 
and  now  the  spanker  boom  and  rudder  were  gone.  Colmey 
mounted  Merlin  and  headed  him  direct  for  the  shore,  and 
as  the  ship  seemed  to  stand  still  tremblingly  for  a  few 
moments,  he  gave  Merlin  the  spur,  and  man  and  horse 
were  hurled  into  the  deep.  The  ship  had  commenced  set- 
tling, cries  and  curses  could  be  heard,  the  captain  stood 
upon  the  quarter-deck.  The  great  black  horse  knew  that 
his  life  and  his  master's  life  were  now  with  him.  He  rode 
the  waves  as  best  he  could,  he  rose  from  the  deep  troughs 
of  the  sea  gallantly  and  battled  with  the  storm.  The  peo- 
ple watched  agonizedly  the  strong  efforts  of  the  noble  ani- 
mal, now  riding  the  waves,  now  lost  to  sight,  but  he  came 
nearer  and  nearer.  A  great  shout  and  cheer  from  the 
shoremen  seemed  to  arouse  Merlin  to  a  tremendous  output 
of  his  strength,  and  now  a  great  white-crested  wave  hurled 
horse  and  rider  well  upon  the  sandy  beach. 

The  ship  had  split  asunder  and  sunk.  Colmey  was 
saved.  Almost  drowned  by  the  stormy  water,  he  was  so 
strangled  and  exhausted  that  darkness  seemed  to  envelop 
him;  and  when  he  came  to  realize  the  full  significance  of 
it,  a  dead  faint  came  upon  him,  and  he  fell  from  his  horse 
into  the  arms  of  the  strangers.  Poor  Merlin,  panting,  and 
with  bulging  sides,  showed  a  preference  for  his  master  by 
drawing  near  him. 

The  mad  waves  kept  lashing  the  shores  of  the  hamlet  by 
the  sea.  Kind  hands  tendered  kindness  to  the  young  stran- 
ger and  the  sea-wet  beast.  When  the  saddle  and  bridle 
and  trappings  were  removed  from  Merlin,  and  he  had  been 
rubbed  thoroughly  dry,  he  at  once  lay  down  in  the  soft 
sand  and  his  heavy  breathing  told  the  sympathizing  throng 
that  he  was  restfully  sleeping  a  deep,  heavy  sleep. 


XXVI 


LAUREL  RIDGE 

"The  air     .     .     .     nimbly  and  sweetly  recommends  itself 
Upon  our  gentle  senses. 

The  temple  hunting  Martlet  doth  approve  and 
Hath  made  his  pendant  bed." 

On  Colmey's  coming  to  himself  after  his  miraculous 
escape  from  the  watery  grave  he  found  sitting  by  him  a 
man  about  seventy  years  old.  He  had  an  honest,  open 
look,  and  one  felt  safe  in  his  presence  from  injury  or 
insult. 

"Well,  young  man,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  arouse." 

"Yes,  sir.  Thank  you.  May  I  ask  who  you  are  and 
where  I  am?"  He  was  told  all  and  that  Merlin  was  cared 
for. 

"Young  man,  who  are  you?" 

"I  am  Colmey  of  Edenton." 

"What!  what!"  The  gentleman  left  the  room  and  soon 
returned  with  his  wife.  "Leah,  don't  he  favor  to  a  line 
our  lost  boy?" 

"He  is  my  lost  son  over  again.  0  young  man,  let  me 
kiss  your  high  white  brow  to  ease  my  longing  heart." 

"Leah,  shall  we  tell  him  of  his  father's  death?" 

"No,  not  yet." 

Colmey  was  pressed  to  go  with  Mr.  Bazzell  to  his  home, 
as  it  was  on  the  way  to  Chowan.  They  arrived  late  in  the 
afternoon.  The  house  was  on  a  slight  ridge  which  was 
about  seven  acres  in  length  and  one  in  breadth,  and  amidst 
virgin  trees  of  laurel,  bay,  hickory  and  dogwood.  It  was 
several  miles  south  of  Queen's  Creek  and  in  sight  of  New 
River.     The  dwelling  was  quaint,  protective,   and   in  its 

149 


150  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

shape  and  building  safety  was  the  first  consideration.  Port- 
holes were  on  every  side,  windows  small  and  high  from 
the  ground.  It  was  a  kind  of  fort  to  live  in  and  fight  from. 
Arrows  and  arrow-heads  could  be  seen,  some  left  in  the 
rough  boards,  shot  there  many  years  ago.  There  were  no 
nails  in  the  building.  The  arrow-heads  reminded  Colmey 
of  his  grandfather's  old  home,  where  arrows  were  imbedded 
and  ball  rifts  could  be  seen. 

Civilization  and  savagery  were  contending  for  mastery; 
law  and  order  were  battling  with  the  lawless  and  those  who 
upheld  and  encouraged  lawlessness  for  their  own  selfish 
ends.  He  missed  the  peculiar  hum  he  was  used  to  at 
Glasgow,  the  clouds  of  sails  on  the  Clyde  and  the  many- 
colored  tartans  passing  up  and  down  the  street  daily.  Great 
heaps  of  shells  on  the  riverside  at  Laurel  Ridge  indicated 
that  it  was  once  an  Indian  camping  ground.  Trails  ran 
south  to  the  Santee  and  north  to  the  Pamunkey  River. 

Mr.  Bazzell  bought  furs  and  hides  and  shipped  them  to 
New  Bern,  and  had  amassed  a  good  deal  of  money  for  those 
days.  "Swink"  had  been  the  word  for  years,  but  now 
"Rest"  as  the  days  for  him  and  his  wife  were  drawing  nigh 
for  the  taking  of  their  rest  eternal.  He  had  cleared  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty  acres  and  had  Indian  and  negro 
slaves.  Everything  was  rustic  but  strong  and  fitting.  The 
immensity  of  forest  and  glade  impressed  Colmey  favorably, 
and  he  felt  a  desire  to  go  forward  and  possess  the  beautiful 
land  seen  everywhere.  Mr.  Bazzell,  having  no  offspring, 
proffered  to  give  Colmey  what  he  had  if  he  would  come 
back  and  live  with  him  and  his  wife  while  they  lived. 
Walking  out  in  the  woodland,  Colmey  was  delighted  with 
the  sweet  redolence  of  grape,  jessamine  flowers,  sweet-gum 
odors,  and  the  pines  and  the  beech  trees  gave  forth  a  smell 
strengthening,  invigorating  and  inviting.  This  primeval 
forest  had  in  it  a  gloom  and  yet  a  grandeur. 

The  green,  growing  grasses  made  Colmey  think  how  the 
Scotch  Highlander  worked  so  hard  and  so  patiently  to  save 


Laurel  Ridge  151 

it,  and  the  Switzer  clinging  by  his  iron  clamps  to  the  moun- 
tainside to  save  his  scanty  hay  crop,  and  here  in  wild  pro- 
fusion, right  under  your  feet,  was  the  lushy  green  carpet 
stretched  out  for  miles.  A  plenteous  repast  awaited  him, 
and,  retiring  early,  his  sleep  was  deep,  heavy  and  refresh- 
ing; and  arising  he  felt  again  his  native  activity  and  went 
forth  rejoicing  in  his  strength.  He  told  them,  "You  rob 
me  of  words  to  express  my  thanks.  I  find  it  impossible  to 
appreciate  your  kindness  to  me.  I  am  a  stranger  to  you, 
and  time  might  make  you  regret  your  royal  offer.  I  must 
go  to  my  father." 

"Be  as  we  are.     Stay  with  us." 

"I  feel  humbled  by  your  decided  favoritism,  and  I  will 
say  this:  after  visiting  my  people  I  will  come  back  to  see 
you  again." 

Hoarsely  the  old  gentleman  said,  "Good-bye,  boy,  come 
back  to  me." 

As  there  were  parties  passing,  going  horseback  to  New 
Bern,  Colmey  joined  them  and  crossed  the  ferry  there  for 
Edenton.  How  his  heart  beat  for  gladness  when  he  saw 
the  swelling  Albemarle.  If  there  were  two  places  on  earth 
that  he  fondly  loved  they  were  Black  Rock  and  Cullendale, 
just  across  the  way.  As  he  rode  for  Edenton  he  consid- 
ered, "What  am  I  to  do?  I  am  twenty,  and  what  am  I  to 
engage  in  for  future  sustenance,  and  for  the  upbuilding  of 
the  family?  I  can't  afford  to  sit  down  idly  and  let  others 
pass  me  in  the  race  for  wealth  and  power.  Is  it  best  for 
me  sooner  or  later  to  return  to  Scotland?  Our  family  is  a 
younger  branch,  and  we  will  have  to  carve  out  for  our- 
selves anew.  No,  it  is  best  to  remain  here.  It  is  a  new 
country  with  tremendous  possibilities."  Looking  over  the 
rolling,  rippling  waves  of  the  Albemarle,  his  thoughts  went 
back  to  the  kind-hearted  old  gentleman  who  seemed  to  love 
him  with  a  paternal  love. 

"What!  Do  you  tell  me  my  father  is  dead  and  buried?" 
A  letter  left  him  read  thus : 


152  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

My  dear  Son  : 

I  trust  this  will  find  you  in  good  health.     I  write  to  say,  God 

bless  you  and  good-bye.     You  will  see  my  friend,  , 

and  he  will  deliver  to  you  certain  moneys  and  notes  collectible. 
I  deemed  it  prudent  to  frustrate  now  any  action  that  might  be 
taken  against  you.  God  bless  my  boy,  I  pray!  You  know  the 
old  home  was  mysteriously  burned  when  the  family  was  away, 
and  your  mother's  tombstone  was  stolen  by  some  hard-hearted 
vandal.  Son,  son,  envy  is  cruel  and  the  hawk  longs  to  beak  the 
eagle.  Wherever  you  go,  my  boy,  carry  the  high  ideals,  the  tra- 
ditions of  your  family  with  you,  and  may  God's  richest  blessings 
attend  you.  Affectionately, 

Your  Father. 

He  feared  to  keep  the  letter  so  very  precious  to  him. 
Pimica  fides,  mutato-nomine,  made  him  burn  it. 

When  Jean  Colmey  rode  out  of  the  grounds  of  Cullen- 
dale,  on  the  very  passing  of  the  gate  he  said:  "Farewell  to 
the  past.  In  the  present  I  shall  live,  and  in  the  future  I 
shall  trust.  I  shall  return  to  the  deep  woods  of  Laurel 
Ridge."  Jean  Colmey  was  frightened;  "regicide"  rang  in 
his  ears.     Culloden  had  marred  his  life. 

The  good  people  were  enraptured  to  have  their  boy  back, 
as  they  called  him.  "You  know  our  boy  was  tall,  blue- 
eyed  and  very  dark-haired — look,  Leah,  how  strikingly 
alike.  We  had  heard  of  your  father's  death,  but  we  could 
not  tell  you." 

"Well,  I  have  come  to  stay  with  you.  You  shall  be 
father  and  mother  to  me." 

They  at  once  had  all  their  land,  all  their  servants,  cattle 
and  barns  made  over  to  Jean  Colmey,  reserving  a  life 
interest.  Colmey's  father's  letter  gave  him  warning  to 
hide  himself  for  a  season;  that  isolation  and  loneliness 
would  be  safer,  better,  than  the  risk  of  a  dungeon  and 
scaffold;  that  rewards  had  been  offered  for  the  arrest  and 
apprehension  of  any  man  that  had  drawn  sword  for  "Prince 
Charlie  from  over  the  sea." 

"Remo,  come."     Brimful  of  hope  and  self-reliance,  he 


Laurel  Ridge  153 

bore  the  staggering  blow,  the  loss  of  his  only  parent,  sor- 
rowfully, resignedly.  He  accepted  his  fate  and  trusted 
confidently  in  the  future. 

Everything  settled  down  peaceably  and  amicably.  In 
those  days  a  dozen  slaves  were  quite  a  large  possession, 
and  young  Colmey,  in  estimating  his  estate,  found  himself 
"well  off,"  as  it  is  termed.  His  father  left  him  a  goodly 
heritage,  and  now  his  kind  friends  made  him  master  of 
more. 
"Remo." 
"Sir?" 

"How  do  you  like  our  new  surroundings?" 
"Master,  all  looks  well  to  me.     The  chicken  and  de  fish 
is  mighty  good  to  me." 

"Do  you  think  you  will  like  this  place?" 
"Yes,  sir.     Wherever  you  and  Merlin  is,  I  likes." 
"Ambrose   (an  under-carpenter)    I  want  you  to  go  to 
work  and  help  build  a  box  stall  for  Merlin,  sixteen  by 
twenty  feet,  you  hear?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  I  will  see  it  is  strong  and  rainproof." 
"Remo,  while  you  are  here,  for  a  while,  try  to  be  at  peace 
with  all,  don't  talk  much." 

It  was  soon  noised  about  that  the  heir  of  Laurel  Ridge 
had  come,  and  that  the  fortunes  of  the  farm  were  now  left 
to  him.  "He  has  brought  negroes  and  highly  improved 
stock  with  him,  besides  money."  "They  say  he  was  edu- 
cated up  to  Apogee."  "Yes,  I  hope  his  head  will  not  be 
turned."  "They  say  he  is  a  downright  pretty  fellow."  "I 
know  old  Mrs.  Bradley  will  hang  out  a  cap  or  two  for  her 
daughters." 

Colmey  easily  fell  into  the  ways  of  the  household,  and 
the  community.  He  was  modest  and  polite,  asked  but  few 
questions,  answered  many.  His  adopted  parents  were 
very  anxious  for  him  to  attend  divine  services  with  them, 
and  churches  were  few  and  far  between  in  those  primitive 
days.     The  first  church  in  North  Carolina  was  in  17 — . 


154  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

He  assented  to  their  proposition,  and  the  gentleman  and 
his  wife  on  one  horse  (postilion  for  her)  and  Colmey  on 
Merlin,  made  their  way  to  the  House  of  God  situated  by 
the  sea.  Alighting  at  the  horse-block,  Remo  took  charge 
of  the  horses,  and  the  good  people  went  into  the  meeting- 
house, as  it  was  called.  Colmey  did  not  go  up  near  the 
pulpit,  but  sat  a  few  seats  from  the  door.  He  looked 
around  him  and  thought  of  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh,  of 
London  and  Londonderry.  He  immediately  brushed  from 
his  memory  those  famous  cities  and  reverently  listened  to 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel  from  St.  John,  fourteenth  chap- 
ter, "Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled." 

Of  course,  after  the  services,  he  was  made  acquainted 
with  the  people  of  the  neighborhood,  and  he  bowed  so 
profoundly  that  the  hearts  of  all  the  older  people  went  out 
to  the  young  and  almost  friendless  stranger.  Old  Starkey 
kindly  remarked,  "There  is  ginger  in  that  young  fellow, 
and  he  seems  to  be  of  a  peaceable  nature."  Getting  back 
home,  they  asked  him  how  he  liked  the  preacher  and  the 
sermon,  and  he  naively  said,  "My  father  tried  early  to 
impress  me  with  the  necessity  of  attending  the  House  of 
God,  that  you  came  in  contact  with  the  best  people  of  the 
community  and  it  was  a  duty  due  to  good  citizenship." 
From  then  to  the  last  of  his  life  he  paid  due  respect  to  the 
Lord's  Day.  Never  officious,  no  church  leader,  only  an 
attendant.  He  never  entertained  for  a  moment  Rob  Roy's 
rule — Take  who  have  the  power,  and  hold  who  can. 

Oftentimes  he  would  sit  by  the  babbling  brookside  at 
Laurel  Ridge  and  hear  again  the  great  bands  of  music  on 
the  river  Clyde,  the  gallop  of  the  horses  in  Hyde  Park,  and 
see  grazing  the  beautiful  cattle  on  the  luxuriant  grass  lands 
of  Surrey  Castle;  but  he  forced  himself  to  close  the  Book 
of  the  Past.  He  said  to  Mr.  Bazzell:  "I  am  here,  and  I  am 
here  to  stay.  Let  me  take  all  the  care  and  responsibility 
of  the  farm.  I  will  keep  all  accounts,  the  receipts  and  the 
expenditures,  and  you  look  over  them  at  any  time  and  see 


Laurel  Ridge  155 

if  they  are  kept  correctly."  The  farm  hands  soon  found 
out  that  the  master  was  kind  and  thoughtful,  and  firm  and 
just,  in  his  relations  to  them.  They  soon  learned  to  trust 
him  and  be  guided  by  him.  Order  and  plenty  were  estab- 
lished and  his  word  became  law.  The  neighborhood  found 
him  neighborly  in  disposition,  and  that  he  was  an  educated 
and  resourceful  man.  On  his  return  from  New  Bern,  after 
being  a  year  on  the  farm,  he  brought  back  with  him  a 
nicely  painted  large  sign,  and  had  it  placed  on  the  front  of 
the  largest  barn,  the  old  name  of  the  farm,  Laurel  Ridge. 
It  gave  a  locality,  a  stability  to  the  premises.  The  old 
people  smiled,  the  farm  hands  applauded. 

"I  tell  you,  husband,  you  made  no  mistake.  He  is  our 
boy,  and  I  love  him  ever  so  dearly,  I  do.  These  two  years 
have  proved  it." 

"Leah,  I  am  going  to  dig  up  that  pot  of  silver  and  gold 
and  give  it  to  him." 

"Why  be  in  a  hurry,  Enoch?" 

"Because  I  am  getting  past  seventy-nine  years  old,  and 
for  fear  the  summons  might  be  sudden." 

"Well,  husband,  you  are  right.     I  hadn't  thought  of  it." 

"My  boy,  stay  after  dinner  for  a  few  minutes." 

"Yes,  you  just  sit  down  for  a  few  minutes.  He  will 
come  back." 

"I  hope  you  know  without  my  saying  so,  that  I  will  re- 
main all  the  afternoon  if  it  will  afford  you  any  comfort." 

Tears  flowed  down  the  aged  cheeks  of  the  good  old 
mother  as  she  heard  the  footsteps  of  her  husband  crossing 
the  porchway  floor.  Young  Colmey  felt  a  peculiar  sensa- 
tion in  his  throat. 

"My  boy,  I  fear  the  time  may  be  very  near  for  us  to  pass 
away.  I  have  dug  up  this  hidden  treasure,  and  we  both 
give  it  to  you  to  have  forever." 

Colmey  bowed  over  the  table  and  spoke  convulsively, 
"0  my  adopted  parents!  You  are  too  kind  to  an  orphan 
stranger."     He  arose  and  affectionately  embraced  both. 


156  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

When  the  autumn  sun  had  painted  the  woods,  and  the 
leaves  began  to  fall,  in  the  old  church  grounds  near  the 
river,  Enoch  Bazzell  and  his  good  wife,  Leah,  both  servants 
of  God,  were  laid  away  to  rest.  There  was  about  twenty- 
four  hours  apart  in  their  deaths.  They  lived  happily 
together  in  this  life  and  were  loved  and  honored  by  all  who 
knew  them.  "Servants  of  the  Saviour!  Peace  to  your 
saintly  souls." 

Thirty  days  after  the  burial  Colmey  placed  his  overseer 
in  charge  and  made  ready  to  leave  with  Remo  for  Bertie 
and  Halifax  to  spend  a  while  with  his  relations.  To  remain 
another  day,  it  seemed  to  him,  would  cause  him  to  die. 
"Bring  around  Merlin,  and,  Remo,  hereafter  you  keep  for 
your  saddle  horse  the  brown  gelding,  Dundee.  Good-bye, 
Mr.  Fennell,  I  will  be  home  in  a  few  weeks.  Any  supplies 
needed,  go  to  Ferrand's.     My  address  will  be ." 

Colmey  greatly  preferred  to  go  by  water  to  Edenton, 
but  he  was  mortally  afraid  of  deep,  broad  waters.  His 
nearly  fatal  experience  at  Swansboro  had  frightened  his 
very  soul. 

Passing  through  Craven  County,  he  stopped  over  to 
examine  Fort  Barnwell.  He  found  arrows  here  and  there, 
and  here  a  tomahawk  offered  for  sale  which  he  purchased, 
which  had  been  used  by  Black  Bear.  An  old  man  told  him 
that  here  was  the  big  tree  the  Indians  came  out  to  and 
surrendered,  and  here  was  where  General  Barnwell  and 
his  braves  made  a  dash  to  the  door  of  the  fort.  "Right 
about  here  where  General  Barnwell  and  Colonel  Pollock 
had  some  sharp  words."  "What  was  the  trouble?"  "It 
seems  that  General  Barnwell  made  some  disparaging  re- 
marks about  the  assistance  the  North  Carolina  troops 
rendered  in  the  fight,  and  Colonel  Pollock  interposed  a 
respectful  remonstrance." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Of  course,  General  Barnwell  was  brave  and  efficient  and 
deserves  our  most  hearty  and  lasting  gratitude;  but  being 


Laurel  Ridge  157 

wounded  and  worried,  he  naturally  desired  to  claim  for 
South  Carolina  rather  too  much,  and  being  taken  up  in  his 
remarks,  he  became  quite  warm  over  the  subject.  He  saw 
what  his  men  did  mostly — and  they  did  bravely,  superbly 
— but  Pollock  claimed  that  North  Carolina  was  there  and 
doing  her  full  duty." 

"I  hope  they  parted  friendly." 

"Oh,  yes;  each  man  held  his  own,  but  was  willing  for  the 
other  to  have  his  opinion."     (See  notes.) 

The  home  of  Wallace  and  Bruce  was  now  to  him  a  faded 
vision,  a  reverie.  He  often  said  to  himself,  "Come  weal 
or  woe,  I  am  an  American."  It  seemed  to  him  that  the 
good  and  the  great  should  come  to  Eastern  Carolina,  as  it 
was  a  land  of  wine  and  of  oil;  of  sea  breezes,  and  of  wild 
game  and  fertile  fields. 

Strolling  through  St.  Paul's  churchyard,  head  uncovered, 
for  a  short  time,  he  then  took  boat  for  Bertie.  In  riding 
up  through  Halifax  by  the  homes  of  the  Zollicoffers, 
Branches,  Jones,  Alstons,  Daniels,  Clarks,  Williams,  and 
Ballards,  he  thought  of  the  "Holy  Hair  of  the  Virgin." 
He  found  the  land  dry  and  level,  the  forests  mostly  small 
oaks  and  large  pines,  and  cedar  and  dogwood  interspersed ; 
and  the  people  a  la  Grande,  hospitable,  courtly  and  well 
educated.  He  looked  about  him  and  exclaimed,  "From 
Halifax  to  Bogue  Sound — it  is  the  wonderland  of  the 
world — unsurpassable !" 


XXVII 


BAZZELL'S  STORY  OF  HIS  CAPTURE 

"0/  all  the  wonders  that  I  have  heard, 
It  seems  most  strange  that  men  should  fear: 
Seeing  that  death,  a  necessary  end, 
Will  come  when  it  will  come" 

— Ccesar. 

Mr.  Bazzell,  like  all  men  growing  old,  loved  to  review 
the  past  and  tell  the  thrilling  stories  of  his  early  life. 

My  parents  were  very  industrious,  and  they  often  went 
together  out  in  the  near-by  cleared  grounds,  and  I  was  left 
at  the  house.  When  I  was  about  ten  years  old,  in  the 
summer  time,  my  father  and  mother,  both  very  fond  of 
fishing  with  pole  and  line,  went  down  to  the  water,  pushed 
off,  and  went  fishing  along  the  side  of  the  river.  Time 
went  with  them  fast,  and  they  gradually  luffed  off  further 
than  they  intended  from  home. 

Without  a  moment's  warning  a  dozen  or  more  Indians 
came  up  to  the  house  and  asked  by  signs  for  my  parents. 
Innocently  I  made  them  understand  as  best  I  could  that 
they  were  away,  fishing.  They  at  once  took  everything 
that  was  cooked,  bacon  and  mullet  roes,  and  took  me  along 
with  them.  I  was  made  to  understand  that  they  would 
tomahawk  me  if  I  cried  out,  and  as  for  escape  for  me,  it 
was  impossible,  being  but  a  little  child  and  badly  fright- 
ened. Toward  night  I  became  very  tired  and  commenced 
crying.  First  one  and  then  another  stalwart  Indian  would 
swing  me  upon  his  back.  I  could  not  eat  I  was  so  heart- 
sick, and  one  of  the  party,  a  man  getting  advanced  in  life, 
took  a  great  fancy  to  me  and  called  me  his  boy.     I  found 

158 


BazzelVs  Story  of  His  Capture  159 

out  shortly  that  I  was  called  Little  Deer  and  my  would-be 
father  was  called  Lame  Deer. 

The  country  we  were  going  through  was  charming.  I 
knew  by  the  rising  of  the  sun  that  we  were  going  north; 
and  the  kindness  of  Lame  Deer  made  my  young  heart  more 
hopeful  and  resigned.  The  trail  they  followed  with  won- 
derful accuracy,  they  never  for  a  moment  seemed  to  be  at 
sea  as  to  which  way  to  go,  and  where  was  best  to  camp.  A 
notch  on  this  big  tree  or  on  that  one,  on  the  right  or  on  the 
left,  seemed  to  them  important,  and  a  small  log  in  the  tree 
was  at  once  noticed,  and  information  was  given  by  its 
being  placed  in  a  certain  position.  Wood  lore  was  to  them 
a  heredity.  Being  pretty  well  supplied  with  victuals,  they 
kept  well  away  from  all  settlers'  dwellings,  and  they  knew 
exactly  by  chops  on  the  trail  where  to  turn  oift  to  avoid 
settlements.  We,  after  three  days,  came  to  a  large,  wide 
water,  and  canoes  were  there  and  two  painted  Indians,  and 
much  Indian  talking  was  indulged  in.  I  soon  fell  asleep, 
and  when  awakened  we  were  at  the  woods.  The  giants  of 
the  wood  stood  in  solemn  harmony,  and  here  and  there 
great  mosses  were  hanging.  Again  we  commenced  another 
march.  In  two  days  the  barking  of  Indian  dogs  made 
known  to  us  that  we  were  nearing  an  Indian  village.  I  had 
never  seen  so  many  Indians  before;  I  was  badly  scared  at 
the  approach  of  Indian  boys.  They  howled  and  danced 
and  acted  in  a  diabolical  way  to  me.  I  drew  up  near  to 
Lame  Deer  and  he  kept  me  by  his  side. 

Lame  Deer  had  a  wife  and  one  daughter  under  eight 
years  of  age.  He  had  lost  his  son  in  one  of  the  Indian 
feuds  and  I  was  taken  into  his  family  to  supply  his  place. 
The  good  old  Indian  mother  was  pleased  with  me,  and  her 
daughter,  Zuwassee,  came  up  to  me  as  if  I  had  never  been 
away  from  the  lodge.  I  sat  down  and  cried,  thinking  of 
my  mother  and  father.  The  old  squaw  exerted  herself  to 
appease  me  and  to  get  me  to  eat  deer  meat  and  potatoes. 
Hundreds  of  Indians,  grown  and  young,  came  to  look  at 


160  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

me.  How  I  wanted  to  kill  them!  In  about  a  month  I  felt 
more  reconciled.  Zuwassee  and  I  had  become  the  best  of 
friends,  and  the  Indian  boys  got  better  towards  me  and 
soon  I  became  as  one  of  them.  Indian  boys  do  nothing  but 
hunt  birds,  trap  rabbits,  and  practice  arrow-shooting.  We 
would  go  off  all  day  and  hunt  and  frolic,  and  they  were 
never  troubled  about  getting  home.  The  women  lay  down 
all  work  when  night  came  and  "fixed  up,"  and  stood  in 
front  of  their  lodges.  The  women  are  great  coquettes,  the 
younger  ones  particularly,  and  all  the  men  are  beaux. 

When  the  tom-tom  beats  all  rush  for  the  dance.  It  is  a 
mistake  to  think  the  Indians  are  miserable  and  have  no  fun 
or  frolic.  Every  night,  nearly,  there  is  a  great  gathering, 
and  tom-toms  and  dancing,  courting  and  flirting,  is  all  the 
go  with  them.  They  keep  up  the  night  songs,  patting  feet, 
clapping  of  hands,  until  about  one  or  two  o'clock  unless 
the  weather  is  too  inclement. 

The  medicine  man  is  the  great  power  amongst  Indians. 
The  king  or  chief  stands  in  dread  of  him.  He  is  prophet, 
priest,  and  physician;  his  word  is  law  in  the  lodges.  He 
foretells  the  future,  and  he  brings  good  or  bad,  as  it  pleases 
him  (so  they  believe). 

By  the  time  I  became  sixteen  or  thereabouts  I  had  had 
fights  innumerable.  I  had  been  on  thieving  expeditions, 
and  I  became  a  warrior  by  test  and  by  endurance.  I 
noticed  that  when  the  tribe  went  out  against  the  whites  I 
was  never  allowed  to  go.  Thinking  I  would  better  my 
condition  and  standing  with  the  tribe,  Zuwassee  and  I  were 
married.  We  stood  before  the  medicine  man,  shook  hands, 
and  hid  both  our  heads  under  the  same  blanket — then  we 
were  married.  I  became  quite  popular.  The  braves  com- 
menced wanting  Little  Deer  to  lead  them  on  their  ramblings 
and  dashes  for  cattle  and  spoils.  Zuwassee  was  a  very 
loving  bride  and  made  much  of  me.  Lame  Deer  and  his 
squaw  were  delighted  beyond  measure  when  we  were  made 
one  for  life,  or  as  long  as  Zuwassee  did  not  see  any  other 


BazzelVs  Story  of  His  Capture  161 

brave  she  loved  better  than  me.  A  woman  can  run  away 
with  another  Indian,  and  if  she  can  get  to  his  lodge  she  is 
safe,  and  so  is  he.  That  is  their  unwritten  law.  If  her 
husband  gets  tired  of  her,  or  she  of  him,  they  can  easily 
seek  other  companions  and  be  friendly  afterwards.  As 
long  as  the  wife  is  in  her  husband's  lodge  she  belongs  to 
him,  body  and  soul.  If  he  has  two  or  more  wives,  and 
they  fall  out  and  fight,  he  does  not  interfere.  He  thinks 
it  is  only  a  woman's  hairpulling.  It  is  very  hard  for  some 
Indian  braves  to  get  a  wife,  for  a  wife  in  daytime  works 
hard,  and  her  lord  does  the  hunting,  fishing,  and  fighting. 
A  brave  who  has  to  cook  is  looked  upon  as  a  squaw.  Some 
are  not  acceptable  to  any  of  the  squaws  and  are  left  to  live 
and  die  alone,  while  others  are  magnetizing  and  can  get 
more  wives  than  they  know  what  to  do  with.  It  is  hard  to 
understand,  but  it  is  true.  The  young  Indian  women  at 
twelve  or  fourteen  are  at  their  best  as  to  looks  and  agility, 
and  they  are  great  flirts.  The  men  pride  on  their  boys,  the 
women  on  their  girls,  as  the  girls  help  them  to  work;  and 
when  the  girl  is  sold  and  married  the  mother  can  claim  a 
part  of  the  purchase  money.  The  women  are  more  virtu- 
ous than  the  men,  and  they  (the  women)  gather  wild  celery, 
berries,  wild  cashaws,  rice,  potatoes,  and  willingly  do  all 
the  work  of  the  village. 

The  Indian  by  nature  is  secretive,  cruel  and  thieving,  and 
no  education  will  ever  change  that  nature.  He  is  religious; 
he  believes  in  the  Great  Spirit  with  fervency,  but  he  has  no 
morality.  What  he  can  get  by  boldness,  by  scheming  or 
murdering,  he  looks  upon  as  lawfully  his,  excepting  rela- 
tions with  his  own  tribe.  The  men  are  lazy,  the  women 
industrious,  and  they  are  as  happy  as  any  other  people 
under  the  sun.     They  cook  but  once  a  day. 

In  two  years  of  married  life  I  was  the  father  of  two  boys, 

White  Crow  and  Little  River.     These  boys  were  the  idols 

of  their  grandparents,  especially  the  older,  White  Crow.     I 

became  gradually  aware  that  there  was  a  "white"  Indian 

11 


162  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

in  camp,  as  he  was  called,  Lone  Jack,  or  Big  Saunders. 
This  man  had  married  the  chief's  sister  and  was  influential 
in  the  tribe.  He  had  several  children,  and  was  trusted  in 
all  their  warfare  against  the  whites  or  Indians.  He  was  a 
goodly  sized  man  with  gray  eyes  and  small  head.  He 
dressed  and  acted  just  exactly  like  the  Indians  did.  He 
seemed  to  intensely  dislike  the  white  race,  and  was  always 
ready  to  go  on  scouts,  round-ups,  or  pilferings  against  his 
own  race  as  quickly  as  against  any  tribe  they  were  at 
enmity  with.  He  was  naturally  brave  and  a  natural-born 
rover.  He  seemed  to  be  in  the  prime  of  manhood.  He 
asked  me  once  if  I  had  any  wish  to  go  back  to  my  own 
people.  The  question  startled  me.  I  answered  that  I  was 
already  with  my  people,  that  I  knew  no  other.  He  seemed 
to  be  well  pleased  with  my  ready  reply.  But  as  I  grew 
older  I  longed  more  to  see  my  own  mother  and  my  own 
father;  but  I  would  not  own  it,  even  to  myself.  I  was 
afraid  I  would  show  it  in  my  face. 

There  was  an  Indian  by  name  Big  Buffalo  who  was  the 
father  of  Red  Eagle  and  Tall  Feather.  He  had  married 
the  chief's  sister,  for  he  had  ponies,  slaves,  and  cattle.  He 
was  very  cunning,  but  he  was  no  brave;  he  would  not  go  on 
the  war-path. 

One  day  two  braves  from  a  distance  came  to  our  town 
and  were  closeted  with  the  chief.  I  told  Sewanda,  Zuwas- 
see's  mother,  of  it,  and  she  seemed  greatly  excited.  She 
made  off  for  Lame  Deer,  and  in  about  an  hour  they  came 
back  together,  and  Lame  Deer  seemed  to  be  in  deep  medi- 
tation, but  said  nothing.  Zuwassee,  womanlike,  had  her 
curiosity  aroused  and  know  she  would.  That  night  all  the 
old  Indians  were  called  in  council  and  the  young  braves 
were  excluded.  Indians,  as  a  rule,  do  not  conclude  to  do 
anything  hastily.  Lame  Deer  came  to  the  wigwam  late  at 
night  and  Sewanda  tried  hard  to  get  out  of  him  what  was 
going  on  to  detain  him  so  late.  But  Lame  Deer  grunted 
and  said  nothing.     All  of  us  slept  in  the  same  wigwam. 


BazzelVs  Story  of  His  Capture  163 

Next  day  and  next  night  council  fires  were  kept  burning. 
Zuwassee,  by  art  or  trick,  learned  that  it  was  the  Meherrins' 
messengers,  and  that  they  had  come  to  ask  aid  of  the  Tusca- 
roras,  that  the  whites  were  advancing,  and  that  they  would 
be  glad  to  borrow  a  hundred  braves;  that  they  would  be 
called  their  own,  and  the  whites  would  not  know  any  better. 
The  council  decided  to  grant  their  request.  I  felt  that  now 
was  my  time  to  escape,  to  get  on  the  list,  to  be  one  of  the 
one  hundred  to  go. 

I  saw  in  close  conversation  next  morning  the  chief  and 
Lone  Jack.  I  put  Zuwassee  after  Lone  Jack,  fearing  him, 
dreading  what  he  might  advise  as  to  myself.  I  told  her  I 
feared  Lone  Jack  wanted  to  do  me  harm,  and  to  try  to  find 
out  through  his  squaw  what  he  thought  of  me.  Dear  Zu- 
wassee, I  remember  her  with  love  and  gratitude.  She 
found  that  Lone  Jack  had  been  consulted  as  to  my  going,  as 
the  braves  clamored  for  me  to  go  with  them.  Lone  Jack 
was  wary,  and  said  I  was  young  and  could  wait,  but  that  I 
was  brave  and  a  good  fighter.  The  medicine  man  came 
and  he  was  wroth  because  they  did  not  await  his  return. 
He  prophesied  that  it  would  not  be  well  to  do  as  the  Me- 
herrins desired.  But  the  promise  had  been  made,  and  the 
braves  were  being  selected.  I  again  fell  back  on  my  faith- 
ful squaw  and  told  her  if  I  didn't  go  and  fight  it  would 
break  my  heart. 

Zuwassee,  "the  light  of  the  morning,"  dear  fond  soul, 
woman-like,  believed  the  man  she  devotedly  loved.  She 
cautiously  talked  with  the  braves,  told  them  that  I  "wanted 
to  go  and  fight,"  that  I  "hated  the  white  settlers,"  and  that 
I  "thought  they,  the  whites,  ought  to  be  driven  out."  I 
was  enrolled  with  the  one  hundred,  and  the  day  appointed 
for  our  departure  came  around.  How  my  heart  hurt  me 
when  I  looked  into  the  eyes  of  Zuwassee! 

The  Meherrins  had  raided  on  the  whites  above  and  below 
Edenton,  had  crossed  and  threatened  and  maltreated  the 


164  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

white  settlers  along  the  Neuse,  and  made  their  way  back  to 
their  camping  grounds  with  all  their  plunder — cattle, 
horses,  etc.  Two  settlers  had  been  killed,  several  white 
women  ravished,  and  the  unprotected  settlements  were 
thrown  into  fear  and  confusion.  Cries  for  help  and  ven- 
geance went  up  to  headquarters.  Colonel  Thomas  Pollock, 
who  was  considered  the  most  experienced  soldier  in  the 
Colony,  was  authorized  to  raise  a  competent  force  to  pursue 
and  punish  them.  He  called  for  volunteers,  and  soon  over 
a  hundred  riflemen  rallied  around  him.  He  took  three 
hundred  friendly  Indians  along,  foes  to  the  Meherrins,  as 
scouts  and  runners.  The  Meherrins  heard  of  his  prepara- 
tions as  they  were  returning,  and  sent  to  the  Tuscaroras  and 
the  Cores  for  help  as  soon  as  they  reached  their  chief  town. 
The  Indians  asked  protection,  also,  of  the  Virginia  authori- 
ties, claiming  that  they  were  in  Virginia  territory.  When 
all  was  ready  and  pack  horses  to  bear  ammunition  and 
supplies  had  been  provided,  and  a  healthy,  hopeful  spirit 
was  fully  up  in  them,  Colonel  Pollock  led  them  forward  as 
rapidly  as  he  could  with  due  safety  to  an  advancing  col- 
umn, against  the  cunning,  treacherous  foe. 

Zuwassee  kissed  me  passionately.  She  clung  to  me 
(sweet  dear  heart  of  my  early  life)  and  lisped,  "Little  Deer 
come  back  to  see  Wassee,  Little  River  and  White  Crow." 
0,  how  I  wanted  to  tell  Zuwassee  all!  but  I  dared  not. 

We  camped  that  night  about  deep  dusk.  Indians  don't 
like  to  travel  at  night,  but  they  are  perfectly  gifted  as  to 
which  course  to  take  by  their  marvelous  sense  of  direction. 
An  Indian  never  gets  lost;  an  Indian  alone  is  never  afraid. 
All  went  to  putting  up  a  wick-up  (for  Indians  never  sleep 
out  in  the  open)  where  each  one  was  to  rest.  I  was  second 
in  command.  Little  Pony,  Big  Saunders's  son,  was  one  of 
the  voung  braves.  Black  Raven  was  our  leader.  When 
we  got  with  the  Meherrins  we  found  their  camping  ground 
was  all  in  a  bustle  of  preparation  for  defense.     The  Core 


BazzelVs  Story  of  His  Capture  165 

Indians  came  in,  one  hundred  strong.  When  the  whites 
would  come  up,  Gray  Hawk  said  that  he  would  take  a  hun- 
dred braves,  and  he  thought  he  could  with  them  fight  the 
colonists  away.  The  braves  were  given  to  him,  and  Little 
Pony  was  anxious  to  be  one  of  them,  and  he  was  taken 
along. 

The  Indian  messengers  returned  from  Virginia  and  re- 
ported that  Carolina  would  not  dare  to  come  over  the  line 
and  pester  the  Meherrins — that  Virginia  would  see  to  it. 
(See  Colonial  Records.)  All  this  was  comforting  news  and 
had  a  tendency  to  put  the  Indians  somewhat  off  their  guard ; 
but  trusty  scouts  came  in  and  told  Black  Raven  to  get  ready. 

I  was  in  an  agony  of  suspense.  A  renegade  white  man 
came  into  the  camp  and  told  that  a  big  company  of  whites 
were  coming.  My  heart  throbbed  with  joy  profound.  The 
Indians  commenced  to  make  ready  to  fight  a  good,  hard 
battle.  The  Meherrins'  medicine  man  went  about  encour- 
aging the  braves,  "that  the  Great  Spirit  would  help  them, 
and  that  the  squaws  would  dance  and  sing  their  praises." 
The  next  day  we  heard  firing  some  distance  in  our  front. 
Soon  three  Indians  brought  Gray  Hawk  in,  badly  shot,  and 
gave  an  account  that  was  not  reassuring  in  the  least  to  those 
drawn  up  and  posted  in  trees  and  behind  trees,  prepared  to 
fight.  They  also  reported  several  Indians  killed,  and  that 
the  whites  and  the  "friendlies"  were  coming  right  on. 
Black  Raven  was  placed  in  command,  and  in  consulting 
with  Gray  Hawk  he  was  told  to  make  peace  if  he  could  with 
the  whites,  that  his  heart  had  turned  to  a  woman's.  Soon 
all  the  Indians  came  running  into  camp  and  said  the  whites 
were  not  far  off.  Black  Raven  sent  a  truce  to  meet  the 
whites,  and  asked  time  to  talk  with  the  great  white  brother. 
A  place  between  the  lines  was  designated  by  the  two  peace 
messengers,  and  pointed  to  the  spot  where  the  whites  were 
to  stop ;  but  the  leader  of  the  whites  advanced  right  on  and 
sent  the  messengers  back  to  tell  Black  Raven  to  surrender 
at  once  or  he  would  kill  and  burn  every  Indian  and  every 


166  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

wigwam,  male  and  female.  Gray  Hawk  was  appealed  to 
again,  and  he  advised  them  to  make  terms  as  best  they 
could. 

The  Indians  have  two  chiefs,  one  old  and  one  young;  one 
a  leader  in  battle,  and  the  other  chief  adviser  in  camp. 
Old  Drift  Cloud  was  a  camp  chief.  Among  all  nations 
there  are  three  classes  of  men:  one  class  naturally  are  born 
fighters,  another  class  will  fight  if  compelled  to,  and  the 
third  class  are  those  who  will  by  hook  or  crook  keep  them- 
selves well  away  from  blood  and  suffering.  Nature  finds 
uses  for  the  several  kinds. 

Black  Raven  placed  his  men  behind  trees  and  in  trees, 
and  took  every  precaution  he  could,  and  prepared  for  a 
hard  fight  if  nothing  else  was  left  them  to  do.  The  women 
and  children  and  old  men  were  placed  in  the  safest  places, 
and  all  awaited  the  coming  of  the  palefaces.  The  pack 
horses  of  the  attacking  column  were  hurried  on  to  the  front 
and  men  were  served  plentifully  with  ammunition.  Colonel 
Pollock  went  amongst  the  men  and  told  them  it  was  sink  or 
swim,  that  if  they  did  not  conquer  it  would  be  impossible 
to  escape  the  Indians'  murderous  tomahawks. 

The  medicine  man  went  through  the  lines  of  the  Meherrin 
braves  and  encouraged  them.  Black  Raven  reasoned  that 
it  was  not  a  war  of  his  own  tribe  and  that  he  should  follow 
the  advice  and  accede  to  the  wishes  of  Gray  Hawk  and 
surrender. 

Colonel  Pollock  came,  halted  his  men,  and  demanded 
that  thirty  hostages  be  allowed  to  be  held  by  him  of  the 
tribe,  or  that  he  would  kill  and  burn  the  town.  I  asked 
Black  Raven  to  let  me  try  to  persuade  the  white  chief  to 
moderate  his  demands,  that  I  could  talk  English  to  him. 
He  agreed  to  my  proposal,  and  I  told  Red  Eagle  and  Little 
Pony  that  Black  Raven  had  ordered  me  to  go  and  parley, 
at  which  they  beat  their  breasts  and  wanted  war.  Little 
Pony  was  wiser  and  more  cautious  than  Red  Eagle.  Red 
Eagle  asked  me  if  I  had  a  woman's  heart  like  Black  Raven. 


BazzeWs  Story  of  His  Capture  167 

I  told  him  to  watch  me  and  see.  I  could  hardly  wait  for 
time  to  go,  for  fear  Black  Raven  would  order  me  not  to  go; 
but  go  I  would  if  I  had  to  break  and  run  to  the  whites. 

Red  Eagle  was  proud  and  rash,  not  handsome  but  well 
shaped,  except  a  short  neck.  He  was  insufferably  arro- 
gant and  domineering.  Little  Pony  was  cautious  and 
patient,  and  cunning  as  his  mother  (Wild  Pigeon),  and  had 
Lone  Jack's  courage  to  fall  back  on.  Red  Eagle  beat  his 
breast  and  demanded  to  be  led  forward,  and  charged  Black 
Raven  with  having  a  woman's  heart.  Little  Pony  was 
called  little  because  he  was  not  so  tall,  but  he  was  expected 
to  become  a  wise  leader  of  his  people. 

Colonel  Pollock  came  in  front  of  his  men  with  sword  in 
hand  and  demanded  the  hostages  and  submission  of  the 
tribe.  Red  Eagle,  enraged  and  reckless,  rushed  at  the 
Colonel  with  his  tomahawk,  and  struck  at  his  head  but 
missed.  The  Colonel's  sword  was  quickly  run  through 
Red  Eagle's  body  and  he  fell  dead  without  a  groan.  All 
the  whites  commenced  firing,  but  it  was  instantly  stopped 
by  the  Colonel  rushing  amidst  the  men,  ordering  them  to 
desist  and  listen  to  him;  that  they  "must  not  shoot  those 
who  would  surrender  for  the  rash  acts  of  one  of  their  num- 
ber." I  went  at  once  and  made  known  that  I  was  a  white 
man,  and  softly  told  the  Colonel  that  I  was  stolen  when  a 
boy  and  that  I  wanted  to  get  back  to  my  people,  and  that  the 
Indians  would  deliver  the  hostages,  and  for  him  to  demand 
of  them  Little  Deer  (my  name).  The  one  volley  from  the 
whites,  the  death  of  Red  Eagle  and  many  braves,  struck 
terror  in  the  hearts  of  the  bravest.  One  or  two  of  the 
Tuscaroras  left  the  village,  with  Black  Raven,  after  the 
hostages,  including  myself,  were  put  under  guard.  The 
infuriated  Tuscaroras,  with  Little  Pony  to  lead,  sent  into 
the  ranks  of  the  whites  a  cloud  of  arrows  from  ambush. 
In  an  instant  a  yell  broke  from  the  whites  and  they  poured 
a  volley  into  the  ambush,  and  a  mad  rush  was  made  for  the 
Indians  and  the  lodges.     A  guard  was  stationed  over  the 


168  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

hostages  with  strict  orders  for  their  protection.  Twenty 
men  were  ordered  forward  to  drive  out  the  ambushed 
Indians  and  to  pursue  them.  At  last  order  was  again 
established.  Four  Indians  were  killed  and  fifteen  wounded, 
and  all  of  them  were  now  willing  to  submit. 

Black  Raven  asked  the  Great  White  Chief  to  go  with  him 
to  visit  Gray  Hawk.  Black  Raven  exclaimed  that  they 
were  sorry  and  would  deliver  up  all  plunder,  and  the  thirty 
hostages  to  be  kept  six  months  for  the  good  behavior  of  the 
tribe  of  the  Meherrins.  They  promised  before  the  medi- 
cine man  and  Gray  Hawk  to  never  raid  the  whites  again. 
Little  Pony  and  the  band  were  making  their  way  back  to 
their  own  tribe,  to  carry  bad  news  to  their  chief  and  the 
medicine  man.  I  asked  Black  Raven  privately  to  tell 
Zuwassee  that  I  was  alive  but  that  I  was  a  hostage.  I  sent 
back  to  her  my  Indian  headdress,  my  eagle  feathers,  and 
my  leggings  of  buckskin  to  be  given  to  my  son,  White  Crow. 

The  horses  and  cattle  and  plunder  were  received  and 
ordered  returned  to  the  white  settlers.  The  hostages  were 
kept  in  the  middle  of  the  trusty  riflemen.  Nine  whites  had 
been  slightly  wounded  by  ball  and  six  whites  arrow  struck, 
but  not  badly  hurt.  As  the  Meherrins  were  completely 
awed,  confounded  at  the  turn  of  events,  we  all  felt  that 
marching  back  to  New  Bern  would  be  easy  and  without 
accident. 

I  afterwards  heard  that  Virginia  authorities  wrote  in  a 
few  days  that  great  offense  to  the  officials  of  His  Majesty's 
Colony  had  been  given,  that  it  was  an  invasion  of  Virginia 
soil,  that  the  Indians  were  murdered  and  robbed  without 
any  offense  to  Carolina,  and  that  Colonel  Pollock  and  his 
men  should  be  made  to  suffer,  or  Virginia  would  be  com- 
pelled to  believe  that  he  was  upheld  by  Carolina.  (See 
Records.) 

In  the  return  to  camp  of  the  braves  sent  out  by  the  Tusca- 
roras,  four  had  been  killed  and  two  wounded.  There  was 
great  turmoil  over  the  news.     Red  Eagle  was  mourned 


BazzelVs  Story  of  His  Capture  169 

over  much  because  he  was  nephew  to  the  chief.  His 
mother,  Wild  Pigeon,  went  into  the  woods  and  mourned 
and  wailed  over  the  loss  of  her  eldest,  and  only  after  three 
days,  by  dint  of  force  and  persuasion,  was  she  induced  to 
return  to  the  village.  Lone  Jack  was  silent.  Little  Pony 
was  a  hero,  and  told  her  he  aimed  at  the  white  chief,  Rock 
Heart,  and  how  the  arrow  went  through  the  paleface's  soft 
gray  hat.  Black  Raven  returned  with  three  of  the  Meher- 
rins,  with  Red  Eagle's  body  on  a  roughly  made  stretcher. 
He  was  buried  with  great  solemnity,  and  his  tomahawk  with 
him. 

Black  Raven  had  to  go  before  the  council  and  make  ex- 
planation as  to  Red  Eagle's  death.  The  doctor  or  medi- 
cine man  called  all  the  village  together,  and  with  his  face 
painted  red  and  jingling  bells  around  his  body,  he  told 
them  had  he  been  consulted  Red  Eagle  and  the  others  would 
be  alive  and  all  unhurt;  that  the  Great  Spirit  was  mad  and 
they  must  propitiate  with  deer  meat  and  furs,  and  then  he 
would  go  to  his  lodge  and  pray  off  the  great  scandal  that 
had  come  upon  the  Tuscaroras. 

We  were  all  rejoiced  to  meet  Captain  Hecklefield  and  his 
riflemen,  for  if  we  had  gotten  a  reverse  it  was  intended  to 
fall  back  on  those  who  were  coming  up  with  the  pack  horses 
and  fight  our  way  back  to  New  Bern.  On  getting  back  to 
our  white  settlement  with  twenty-nine  Meherrin  Indians 
as  hostages,  with  the  news  of  several  Indians  killed  and 
many  wounded,  of  bringing  back  the  plunder,  and  none  of 
our  men  killed  and  only  six  wounded,  the  people,  men, 
women  and  children,  went  wild.  Everybody  wanted  me 
to  go  home  with  them  and  tell  my  story. 

The  command  were  thanked  and  commended  for  their 
swift  advance  and  the  punishment  meted  out  to  the  blood- 
thirsty savages.  The  Colonel,  as  soon  as  we  got  back, 
went  around  and  shook  hands  with  every  man  and  compli- 
mented all  of  them  and  cordially  asked  all  to  make  him  a 
visit  and  stay  long  when  they  came.     He  bade  me  good-bye 


170  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

and  sent  his  compliments  to  my  parents  and  hoped  I  would 
prove  a  useful  and  helpful  citizen.  He  mounted  his  horse, 
a  surefooted  chestnut,  and  with  several  gentlemen,  bowing 
and  lifting  his  hat,  rode  away  for  New  Bern.  We  broke 
ranks  on  the  south  side  of  the  Neuse,  and  with  cheers  made 
off  for  our  homes. 

My  mother  and  father  were  delirious  with  joy  when  I 
reached  home.  They  did  not  know  me  at  first,  but  when  I 
said,  "Mother,  don't  you  know  your  boy?"  with  a  scream 
she  ran  to  me.  I  could  see  great  changes  in  the  farm,  also 
great  changes  in  my  parents.  Strange  it  may  sound,  but 
for  several  days  my  heart  was  sadly  troubled,  thinking  of 
dear,  good  Zuwassee. 


XXVIII 

BAZZELL'S  SECOND  STORY 

"So  pass  mankind:  one  generation  meets 
Its  destined  period,  and  a  new  succeeds." 

Sitting  around  the  fireside,  Mr.  Bazzell  was  always  glad 
to  speak  of  his  younger  days. 

My  son,  did  you  ever  hear  all  about  the  great  fight  at 
Barnwell,  as  it  is  now  called?  We  called  it  Big  Eagle's 
Nest.  You  know  the  Indians  had  got  mighty  jealous  of 
the  white  people.  Northern  Indians  and  Indians  from  up 
west  had  come  down  to  help  stir  up  bad  blood,  and  had 
promised  to  help  out  the  Tuscarora  and  Core  Indians,  and 
the  Mattamuskeets  were  also  to  lend  a  helping  hand  if  they 
would  rise  up  and  exterminate  the  whites.  In  those  days 
bands  of  Indians  from  great  distances  came  through  the 
country  to  the  seashore,  and  no  one  took  much  notice  of  it. 
They  came  to  fish,  catch  oysters,  kill  wild  turkeys,  gather 
grapes,  hunt  wild  deer,  etc.  They  said  they  wanted  to  kill 
the  wolves  and  great  bears;  but  robbing  and  stealing  was 
their  object  and  delight,  and  everybody  was  uneasy  and 
kept  watch.  I  noticed  that  they  kept  getting  bolder  in  their 
depredations.  Bands  from  South  Carolina,  and  the  Pa- 
munkey  and  Chickahominy  Indians  of  Virginia,  the  Wyan- 
dottes  and  Wabingos  from  New  York,  roamed  all  through 
the  lower  part  of  the  State,  particularly  in  the  autumn  and 
winter  time,  as  it  was  more  pleasant  than  it  was  up  west  or 
north.  They  stole  horses  and  cattle,  carried  off  oftentimes 
our  women,  and  the  white  people  and  what  negroes  we  had 
were  constantly  in  jeopardy.  One  day  about  dusk  I  heard 
one  of  my  fattening  hogs  squeal,  and  I  thought  certain  it 

171 


172  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

was  a  bear  that  had  him.  I  ran  with  my  dog  to  scare  him 
away,  when  an  arrow  came  "see-wee"  through  my  hat.  I 
ran  back  to  get  my  gun,  but  my  wife  held  me  and  would  not 
let  me  go.  Next  morning  I  went  out  early,  and  not  far 
away  was  the  skin  of  the  hog  and  many  tracks  could  be 
seen  on  the  ground.  I  thought  it  was  a  band  from  South 
Carolina  going  down  on  a  visit  to  the  Pungoes.  There 
were  horses'  tracks  and  ponies  for  pack  teams.  I  had 
been  robbed  before  many  times,  but  that  was  the  first 
time  I  was  ever  shot  at.  Somehow  I  felt  hot  through  and 
through.  Going  further,  I  found  a  fine  heifer  killed  and 
skinned,  one  I  was  rearing  for  a  milk  cow.  I  found  many 
of  my  fences  down. 

I  noticed  not  far  from  the  house  a  curious  marking  on 
the  side  of  a  big  oak:  I  thought  of  the  time  of  the  month. 
It  was  the  10th  of  June.  It  was  never  there  before.  What 
did  it  mean?  I  was  afraid  to  tell  my  wife,  but  you  know 
women  have  a  way  of  thinking  not  like  a  man's,  and  I 
knew  it  might  mean  death,  burning  up  my  property,  etc., 
so  I  told  her.  We  both  went  out  to  the  tree.  She  looked 
at  it  carefully  and  said  it  meant  deviltry  of  the  worst  kind, 
that  she  thought  in  three  weeks  or  three  months  there  would 
be  a  terrible  time  to  be  met.  We  then  went  where  the 
heifer  was  butchered,  and  it  showed  plainly  that  very  many 
were  along.  We  followed  the  trail  down  to  the  old  spring, 
and  there  they  camped  for  the  night.  Clearing  up  grounds 
and  the  ditching  have  done  away  with  the  spring. 

My  wife  carefully  noted  everything.  There  was  the 
camp-fire  of  burnt  logs,  and  bones  from  the  cooking.  I 
noticed  that  she  picked  up  a  wisp  of  hair,  golden  hair,  long 
and  silky.  She  found  a  patch  of  fine  goods  secured  by  a 
splinter  to  a  limb  blown  off  the  tree.  It  looked  as  if  some 
one  had  rested  by  that  old  limb  all  night;  the  limb  that  had 
blown  off  in  a  storm.  Walking  round  about,  she  went  back 
to  that  limb  and,  lifting  it  up,  under  it  was: 


BazzelVs  Second  Story  173 

Be  ready,  in  God's  name!  Tell  the  settlers  that  the  Indians 
are  going  to  kill  all  the  white  people  along  the  coast  in  the  next 
three  moons.     I  am  stolen  and  cruelly  treated. 

Carrie  Yeomans. 

"Now,  Enoch,  let's  go  right  to  getting  ready;  get  word  to 
the  settlers,  and  go  to  making  slugs  and  bullets.  If  it  is 
three  weeks  it  means  June.  If  it  is  three  moons,  and  I 
think  that  is  what  it  means." 

We  had  no  child,  and  my  wife  was  quick  on  foot  and 
long-winded ;  and  we  just  went  to  thinking  what  was  best  to 
do.  I  placed  that  arrow  away  for  future  use,  as  every 
tribe  had  a  way  of  fashioning  their  arrows.  Instead  of 
being  mad,  as  I  was  at  first,  I  became  scared  and  confused. 
I  felt  fainty.  I  did  not  let  my  wife  know  my  feelings,  but 
just  sat  down  and  thought  it  all  over.  One  thing  certain, 
the  white  people  must  act  in  concert,  the  Governor  must  be 
made  aware  of  the  danger,  and  every  advantage  of  time  be 
taken,  and  then  act  and  act  intelligently.  I  felt  better. 
After  I  thought  it  over  and  by  getting  together,  we  could 
have  a  chance  for  our  lives.  I  hastened  to  Swansboro. 
Soon  orders  came  to  meet  at  Jacksonville  with  rifle,  ball  and 
powder.  The  women  were  in  tears.  The  old  men  cheered 
us  on,  even  the  dogs  became  parties  to  the  general  ex- 
citement. Getting  ready  to  go,  'we  placed  everything  in 
the  hands  of  old  Cyrus,  and  told  him  not  to  go  anywhere 
until  our  return. 

We  left  Jacksonville  for  New  Bern,  keeping  a  sharp 
lookout  for  Indians  day  and  night.  Captain  Spicer  thought 
it  best  to  send  and  get  a  friendly  Indian  to  go  with  us,  and 
we  had  him  to  go  well  in  front  with  two  select  men  not  far 
behind  him.  The  Trent  Minute  Men  and  the  Neuse  Rifle- 
men joined  us.  At  night  we  put  out  pickets  and  also  camp 
guards.  Next  day  we  took  up  the  march  for  New  Bern. 
We  found  New  Bern  in  an  upstir.  The  horrid  massacres 
on  the  Roanoke  and  Chowan  we  now  heard  in  full  and 
details  of  Mr.  ,  wife  and  children,  tomahawked. 


174  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

In  some  places  the  women  were  ravished  and  nailed  to  the 
floor  with  large,  sharp  stakes  driven  through  them.  Heads 
were  hung  up  in  trees,  and  bodies  were  split  open  and  fas- 
tened across  saplings.      (See  notes.) 

The  11th  of  September  was  exactly  three  moons  from  the 
time  the  marks  on  the  tree  were  made.  One  hundred  and 
twelve  white  men  and  women  and  many  little  children  were 
murdered  and  burned  in  three  days  time.  The  Governor 
of  South  Carolina  responded  as  soon  as  he  could,  and 
promised  to  send  six  hundred  militia  and  three  hundred 
warriors  from  the  friendly  tribes  under  the  command  of 
Colonel  Barnwell.  Now,  North  Carolina  had  to  arrange 
to  raise  money  and  provisions  had  to  be  gathered  at  New 
Bern  to  feed  the  army,  and  a  world  of  anxiety  and  trouble 
was  in  the  land. 

The  Indians,  with  surprising  sagacity,  went  to  work  and 
constructed  three  strong  forts  at  Barnwell,  or  Big  Eagle's 
Nest.  One,  the  largest,  was  for  their  warriors,  one  for  their 
women  and  children,  and  one  for  prisoners,  each  admira- 
bly connected.  A  small  stream  divided  the  two  smaller 
forts;  the  largest  fort  had  a  subterranean  flow,  within  the 
heavy  stockade.  (See  Six  Nations.)  The  runaway  negroes 
joined  the  Indians  and  they  were  as  cruel  as  the  most  cruel 
redskins. 

Traces  can  be  seen  to  this  day  of  the  forts,  particularly 
the  largest  one.  For  fierceness,  for  valor,  for  endurance, 
there  has  never  been  a  tribe  that  surpassed  the  Tuscaroras. 
The  young  bucks  of  the  age  of  fourteen  and  sixteen  years 
old  fought  as  stoutly  as  the  older  braves.  They  did  not 
have  the  cunning,  the  experience;  but  they  were  fierce  and 
longed  to  have  the  young  Indian  women  to  praise  them,  call 
them  "much  brave,  heap  brave." 


XXIX 


THE  DIVIDING  LINE 


"Mr.  Colmey,  did  you  get  acquainted  with  the  poet 
Thompson  of  the  'Seasons'  while  in  Scotland?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  also  Mr.  Ramsey  of  the  'Gentle  Shepherd.' 
I  also,  Mr.  Boiling,  met  a  gentleman  of  North  Carolina 
there,  a  Doctor  Robert  Williams.  I  was  delighted  to  see 
some  one  from  my  homeland." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  I  suppose  you  have  read  at  your  leisure 
Colonel  William  Byrd's  booklet  on  the  Dividing  Line?" 

"Well,  Carrie,  I  will  answer  that  question  for  Mr. 
Colmey." 

"Well,  well,  I  must  express  my  surprise  and  pleasure, 
May,  for  you  to  wake  up,  and  to  see  you  wish  so  ardently 
to  ventilate  your  knowledge.  Let's  hear,  May,  what  you 
thought  of  it.  We  expect  to  gain  instruction  as  well  as 
entertainment." 

"Carrie,  I  could  but  laugh  at  Colonel  Byrd's  would-be 
pertness." 

"Was  he  pert,  May,  in  saying  that  the  borderers  who 
claimed  to  be  Carolinians  positively  objected  to  being  made 
Virginians  by  the  survey?" 

"No,  not  that,  because  that  was  a  self-evident  objection; 
for  all  North  Carolinians  have  such  a  deep,  abiding  love 
for  Carolina  that  time  nor  distance  can  quench  that  love; 
and  they  are  not  willing  to  be  considered  only  just  what 
they  are  and  what  they  prefer;  they  are  not  slow  to  an- 
nounce it." 

"Was  it  pert,  May,  because  he  said  North  Carolinians 
were  made  mad  to  be  called  Virginians  or  if  you  tried  to 
tax  them?" 


175 


176  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Yes,  that's  it,  Carrie.  Colonel  Byrd  had  become  an- 
noyed at  the  Carolinians  all  along  the  Dividing  Line  be- 
cause they  unhesitatingly  objected  to  having  their  homes  in 
Virginia;  and  he,  in  a  moment  of  displeasure,  paid  unin- 
tentionally to  them  a  lasting  and  a  glowing  tribute." 

"Really,  May,  you  are  quite  eloquent  on  the  subject." 

'Your  badinage  is  not  the  least  offensive,  but  very  amus- 
ing to  me,  Carrie.  Carolinians  are  a  little  slow  to  speak 
their  minds;  but  I  am  here  to  tell  you  they  are  unwilling  to 
be  surveyed  out  of  Carolina  and  over  the  line  into  Virginia. 
It  is  amusing  to  me,  Carrie,  to  hear  you  descant  upon  the 
advantages  coming  to  our  Colony  by  being  under  the  neces- 
sity of  making  Norfolk  or  Suffolk  our  commercial  center." 

"Well,  you  can  but  admit  that  Colonel  Byrd  was  a  fine 
writer,  and  just  simply  dotted  down  what  seemed  to  him  an 
irrelevancy,  for  you  know,  May,  no  state  has  so  much  pride 
as  old  Virginia,  and  we  are  willing  to  a  man  for  you  to  use 
our  ports  for  your  shipping." 

"We  sanction  you  for  your  loyalty." 

"May,  my  dear,  they  took  a  logical  view  of  the  fact,  and 
thought  that  if  they  had  to  submit  to  an  unpleasant  occur- 
rence it  was  but  nice  to  put  a  good  face  on  the  matter,  and 
accept  the  inevitable  with  becoming  grace." 

"Well,  Carrie,  I  am  so  glad  to  be  informed  that  the  bor- 
derers in  those  days  living  on  North  Carolina's  side  of  the 
Dividing  Line  were  so  gracious  and  so  logical."  (See 
Wheeler's  History.) 

"Virginia's  loss  and  Carolina's  gain,  eh,  May?" 

"Just  notice,  Carrie,  mark  well:  the  good  Colonel  Byrd 
did  not  even  intimate  that  the  Virginians  objected  in  the 
least  to  being  by  survey  made  into  Carolinians.  Carrie, 
they  thought  maybe  it  was  Virginia's  loss  only  numerically, 
but  their  individual  gain  territorially.  How  about  the  toll 
gates?"      (See  Records.) 

"May,  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  see  why  you  talk  as  you 


The  Dividing  Line  111 

do,  when  you  can  but  recollect  when  visiting  me  we  visited 
Richmond  and  Lynchburg,  and  nearly  every  pound  of  to- 
bacco made  in  North  Carolina  was  brought  to  Virginia 
markets  to  be  made  merchantable;  how  as  to  that  kind  of 
territory?" 

"Yes,  Carrie,  too  true,  and  I  have  heard  that  one  of  our 
far-sighted  men  contended  that  the  Nansemond  should  be 
the  Dividing  Line.  Yes,  which  territory  made  the  bright 
tobacco? 

"Virginia,  being  under  royal  protection  and  patronage, 
your  State  grasped  and  held  tenaciously  every  vestige, 
every  inch  of  vantage  ground,  and  unkindly  put  a  burden- 
some embargo  on  Carolina's  tobacco.  You  did  not  observe 
the  Golden  Rule." 

"May,  we  were  discussing  facts,  not  religion.  We  must 
have  laws  and  churches  and  schools,  and  we  have  perfected 
arrangements  to  accommodate  your  State  as  to  commerce. 
And,  May,  you  know  when  in  1711  the  Tuscarora  Indians 
were  about  to  eat  you  all  up,  Virginia  voted  one  thousand 
pounds  to  help  you." 

"Very  true,  and  we  had  but  little  to  thank  you  for  in 
that  critical  instance,  for,  dear,  you  demanded  a  mortgage 
on  our  Colony,  so  unjust  and  extravagant  that  we  respect- 
fully declined  your  unsisterly  proposition.  You  sent  not  a 
man  and  you  spent  not  a  dollar.  Oh,  yes,  indeed,  you 
voted!" 

"But,  May,  how  did  you  get  along  without  Virginia?" 
(See  notes.) 

"How?  Our  noble  southerly  sister,  South  Carolina, 
bravely  met  the  issue  and  loaned  four  thousand  pounds  and 
sent  a  fine  body  of  men  to  help  us  in  our  direst  extremity. 
And,  Carrie,  let  me  say,  we  sent  men  soon  after  to  help 
South  Carolina,  and  we  are  willing  to  forget  and  are  ready 
to  help  Virginia  without  demanding  a  monstrous  mort- 
gage." 

12 


178  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"But,  May,  dear,  don't  forget  our  schools  have  educated 
your  people  and  our  factories  helped  you  to  get  your 
produce  to  market." 

"And  if  you  did  we  paid  you  well  for  the  kindness;  and 
right  here  I  enter  my  protest  in  toto  against  North  Carolina 
being  beholden  to  any  of  the  colonies.  Your  embargo  is 
oppressive.  In  a  word,  I  say  from  the  depths  of  my  soul, 
North  Carolina  for  North  Carolinians!  As  to  agriculture, 
commerce,  education,  and  arms;  Viva  Carolina!  Viva 
Supremacy!" 

"May,  my  dear,  I  fear  that — " 

"Miss  May,  under  your  favor,  let  me  reply  to  your  last 
remark.  Carolina  is  so  coast  bound,  she  has  such  danger- 
ous capes,  no  seaports  of  proper  depths,  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  North  Carolina  to  keep  from  seeking  outside  ship- 
ping facilities.  I  think  Mr.  Colmey  will  bear  me  out  in 
this  argument." 

"I  thank  you,  sir,  for  asking  me  to  express  my  opinion 
on  this  subject,  near  and  dear  to  my  heart.  First,  Mr. 
Boiling,  I  desire  to  record  myself  most  unreservedly  in 
accepting  and  upholding  the  sentiments  expressed  by  Miss 
Montfort.  I  register  myself  at  this  moment  her  humble 
admirer  and  devoted  supporter,  her  knight.  Mr.  Boiling, 
your  argument  is  good  only  in  part.  We  admit  Virginia, 
New  York,  and  South  Carolina  have  been  naturally  more 
blessed  in  seaports  than  we;  those  states  have  commercial 
advantages  seemingly  far  superior  to  us;  but  I  am  one  of 
those  who  believe  that  Deity  sometimes  places  formidable 
obstacles  to  arouse  the  latent  qualities  of  acquisition  and 
persistency  and  commercial  skill  in  His  people. 

"Now,  sir,  when  we  consider  that  the  lands  of  North 
Carolina  are  more  fertile  than  those  of  Virginia  and  South 
Carolina,  that  our  sounds  are  deeper,  wider,  and  far  more 
numerous,  our  mountains  higher,  that  our  rivers  are  as 
numerous  for  transportation,  our  lakes  are  from  East  Lake 
to  Toxaway,  we  can  but  believe  it  will  be  but  a  short  space 


The  Dividing  Line  179 

of  time  before  the  innate  conquering  capacities  of  our 
people  will  be  aroused  by  this  particular  problem.  Then 
the  Frying  Pan  Shoals  near  Wilmington  and  the  dreaded 
Hatteras  will  be  made  to  be  subservient  to  the  Colony's 
needs.  Then  will  be  cut  out  an  outlet  safe  and  speedy 
near  Cape  Lookout  and  Cape  Fear.  Ocracoke  will  be 
harnessed  and  be  compelled  to  do  part  in  dispatching  the 
commerce  of  our  eastern  section.  I  remember  how  anx- 
iously I  inquired  of  the  Scotia  experts,  in  detail,  while  ex- 
aming  the  wonderful  outlet  made  by  Scotland  out  of  the 
River  Clyde;  for  the  stupendous  barriers  were  being  one  by 
one  annually  overcome.  Yea,  Scotland  liked  Liverpool, 
but  Scotland  loved  Glasgow.  I  don't  believe  that  there  is 
anything  of  material  nature  but  that  the  genius  of  man  can 
fashion  and  fuse  to  his  own  liking  and  profit.  Therefore, 
what  has  been  done  can  be  done." 

May  Montf ort  gave  Colmey  a  look  he  never  forgot  to  his 
dying  day. 

"Come,  Carrie,  let's  away  and  make  a  marmalade  for 
these  intellectual  casuists." 

"May,  are  you  going  wild — beside  yourself?" 

"No,  Carrie;  come,  let's  away." 

"I  do  hope,  Mr.  Colmey,  that  the  kindly  spirit  of  the 
sisters  will  be  maintained  and  Carolina  will  go  slow  in 
making  any  changes  commercially  or  educationally;  for 
Virginia  appreciates  Carolina's  patronage." 

''Yes,  Mr.  Boiling,  but  every  cow  ought  to  lick  her  own 
calf,  to  use  an  everyday  expression.  We  must  free  our- 
selves from  these  shackles.  I  verily  believe  the  so-called 
'strip  of  land  between  the  states'  will  blossom  as  the  rose 
and  flow  with  milk  and  honey.  Yes,  sir,  the  present  defi- 
ciency of  the  Colony  one  day,  I  firmly  believe,  will  be 
remedied.  Why  not?  There  will  arise  a  sharp  demand 
for  an  outlet  from  North  Carolina  waters,  and  that  demand 
will  put  in  motion  an  influence  that  will  create  resources 
and  multiply  possibilities  and  intensify  energies.     A  few 


180  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

scattered  efforts  cannot  accomplish  much,  but  when  con- 
centration of  brain,  will,  and  heart  desire  is  combined  by 
thousands  the  results  are  far-reaching  and  will  be  obtained. 
Dissensions,  discordant  views,  may  for  a  while  stem  the 
tide,  but  ultimately  the  streams  will  run  into  one  torrent. 
And  then  all,  feeling  the  impulse  of  new  feeling,  will  be- 
come anxious  to  help  push  along  a  statewide  necessity,  and 
then  do  a  deed  at  which  the  nation  will  wonder,  and  future 
generations  happily  rejoice  over.  I  prophesy  that  the  day 
is  coming  when  the  will  power  of  Carolina  will  find  a  man 
that  will  make  a  world  harbor  at  Beaufort  or  Cape 
Lookout." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  my  best  wishes  are  for  Carolina,  but,  sir, 
this  would  be  a  stupendous  enterprise." 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Boiling,  for  your  expressions  of  good 
will.  Let  me  say,  please,  that  sand  bar  and  treacherous 
deeps  will  not  hold  Carolina  back.  She  will  mount  with 
eagle  wings  to  heights  now  unknown;  her  destiny,  Mr. 
Boiling,  is  to  be  great,  her  empire  is  assured." 


XXX 


COLMEY  PLACE 


"//  the  ancient  conception  of  social  relations  was  less  human, 
less  broad,  than  our  own,  it  nevertheless  had  a  certain  grandeur 
lacking  in  ours." 


HI 


'Mr.  Colmey,  I  am  delighted  to  see  that  you  and  my 
Cousin  Tom  take  to  each  other  so  friendly.  I  see,  Mr. 
Colmey,  you  have  an  outspoken  admiration  for  'Our  Fair 
Lady  of  Halifax.'  Tom  is  of  most  excellent  parentage  and 
well  educated.  Mr.  Colmey,  have  you  noticed  the  play  of 
his  eyes?     His  eyes  date  back  to  Pocahontas." 

"What!  am  I  to  understand  that  he  is  a  descendant  of 
that  Princess?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  the  family  is  quite  proud  of  King  Powha- 
tan's history.  Mr.  Colmey,  don't  you  think  any  one  would 
be?" 

"Well,  really,  Miss  Culpepper,  I  am  not  prepared  to 
assent  or  dissent  to  your  proposition.  This,  Miss  Culpep- 
per, I  do  know,  that  Mr.  Boiling  is  a  very  handsome  man, 
and  that  he  is  intelligent  and  entertaining." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  isn't  his  horsemanship  superb?  He  is  as 
erect  and  active  as  a  man  can  be.  Mr.  Colmey,  he  out- 
played'all  of  us  at  last  tennis.  May  Montfort,  why  don't 
you  talk  some?  You  seem  mum  and  glum — what's  the 
matter?" 

"I  hope  to  see  you  later."  And  Colmey  bowed  and 
departed. 

"May,  I  can't  see  much  in  that  young  sprig  to  rave  over; 
can  you?"  '  '        ; 

"No." 


181 


182  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Don't  you  think  he  is  as  absent-minded  as  can  be?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Well,  May,  do  you  like  to  be  in  Mr.  Stilt's  company  as 
much  as  you  do  in  Tom's  and  Frank's?" 

"What  is  the  difference,  Carrie?" 

"Difference,  fiddlesticks!  Is  there  no  difference  between 
chalk  and  cheese?" 

"Chalk  and  cheese  have  different  properties  and  uses." 

"Confound  your  play  on  words.  I  am  truly  glad  I  can 
feel  and  have  preference.  I  certainly  am.  May,  are 
you  losing  your  mind?  You  can't  lose  your  heart;  you 
have  none  to  lose." 

"I  know  the  way  downstairs,  Carrie." 

"Oh,  well!  I  see  you  wish  to  be  alone,  and  as  you 
suggest,  I  will  find  my  way  downstairs." 

"Stay,  Carrie,  stay." 

Carrie  had  her  fan,  her  constant  companion,  and  Mad- 
ame de  Lamina  prized  hers  more  highly  not  a  whit,  than 
did  Carrie.  Downstairs,  Carrie  Culpepper  went,  half  angry 
and  half  inquisitive  as  to  May's  peculiar  moods  and  tenses 
for  the  last  few  weeks.  Mr.  Thompson  was  walking  in  the 
grove,  and  on  seeing  Miss  Culpepper  on  the  piazza,  he 
came  ana1  they  walked  out  and  sat  by  the  wayside  on  a 
rustic  bench  much  used  and  partly  shaded  by  a  large 
myrtle.  In  a  short  time  Colmey  rode  by  on  his  gray  filly, 
and  so  absorbed  was  he  in  his  thoughts  that  he  paid  no 
attention  to  them. 

"Mr.  Thompson,  what  kind  of  a  young  man  is  Mr.  Col- 
mey? I  think  he  treated  May  just  a  while  ago  downright 
shabbily." 

"What!     Colmey  acted  shabbily?" 

"Well,  I  think  so.  May  asked  him  if  this  was  not  a  fine 
afternoon  to  go  horseback  riding,  that  it  might  do  her  head- 
ache good.  He  abruptly  said,  'I  think  not,'  and  walked  off 
after  bowing." 


Colmey  Place  183 

"Why,  Colmey,  I  thought,  was  studiously  polite  to 
ladies." 

"Yes,  he  is  to  me,  puctiliously  polite,  but  he  is  not  so  to 
May.  I  felt  hurt  and  annoyed  for  May,  and  here  rides  by 
the  idiot  as  if  in  a  dream." 

They  returned  to  the  house,  and  May  was  standing  lean- 
ing against  one  of  the  large  fluted  columns. 

"May,  Mr.  Thompson  and  Tom  think  it  would  be  a 
charming  afternoon  for  a  horseback  ride,  and  suppose  we 
all  go.     What  say  you?" 

"A  carriage  drive,  Carrie,  would  be  better." 

"Order  around  the  carriage,  if  that  suits  you,  and  let's 
go  and  speak  to  Mrs.  Colmey." 

When  May  went  up  for  her  wraps  Miss  Culpepper  sug- 
gested that  Mr.  Thompson  ride  horseback  as  knight  attend- 
ant, and,  looking  wisely  at  him,  said:  "I  shall  take  Cousin 
Tom  with  us  in  the  carriage.     You  understand?" 

"Yes.     I'll  be  ready  in  time." 

Mr.  Boiling  was  called,  and  he  assisted  the  ladies  and 
took  his  seat  by  May;  Miss  Culpepper  preferring  a  front 
seat.  After  an  hour's  drive  the  carriage  was  ordered  to 
stop  at  the  old  wayside  spring,  nearly  a  mile  from  the 
house,  and  they  all  alighted  to  get  a  cool  drink.  Mr. 
Colmey  reined  up  this  time  at  the  side  of  Mr.  Thompson, 
and  proffered  to  hold  his  horse  that  he  might  join  the  ladies 
at  the  spring.  Miss  Culpepper  had  the  silver  cup,  and 
was  kindly  handing  around  the  water,  and  all  had  drunk 
but  May.  She  asked  for  the  cup  and,  letting  it  for  a 
moment  remain  in  the  clear,  bright  spring,  she  dipped  it 
full  and  went  to  Mr.  Colmey  and  offered  the  water  to  him. 
Miss  Culpepper  could  not  refrain  an  exclamation,  "You 
May!" 

Colmey  took  the  cup  slowly  and  dived  into  her  steady, 
lakelike  eyes,  and  what  he  read  there  inflamed  his  face, 
and  bowing  low  he  softly  said,  "I  thank  you  from  the  very 


184  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

bottom  of  my  soul."  A  paleness  spread  over  Boiling's 
broad,  well-formed  forehead,  and  a  grip  in  his  jaw  showed 
he  felt  offended. 

"May,  I  must  say  I  can't  understand  you." 

"Maybe  you  can,  and  maybe  you  can't." 

"May  Montfort,  I  would  not  have  given  Mr.  Colmey  any 
water,  after  he  had  acted  ugly  towards  me  to  have  saved 
his  life." 

"He  is  here,  Carrie,  a  comparative  stranger,  and  putting 
fire  coals  on  one's  head  for  offending  is  sometimes  a  good 
way  to  punish  the  offender." 

"That  is  Scripture,  May,  but  it  is  not  me." 

"Well,  giving  a  cup  of  water  in  His  name,  we  are  prom- 
ised to  be  rewarded." 

"Moral  Scripture,  but  it  does  not  fit  the  case." 

In  a  moment  or  so  Mr.  Thompson  came  up,  and  May 
said,  "Let's  all  run  home." 

"Why,  Miss  Montfort!  I  thought  you  had  a  terrible 
headache,  and  running  would  make  it  much  worse." 

"Mr.  Boiling,  the  drive  has  driven  away  my  headache. 
Now,  Carrie,  for  a  skip,"  and  down  the  lane  sped  the  two 
women  as  gracefully  as  deer.  After  running  a  couple  of 
hundred  yards  they  slowed  up,  and  Miss  Culpepper  re- 
marked: "May,  I  fear  the  gentlemen  will  not  be  pleased 
with  our  running  off  from  them.  Lets  wait  for  them  to 
come  up." 

Soon  they  were  joined  by  Boiling  and  Thompson.  "Mr. 
Thompson,  what  has  become  of  your  horse?" 

"Knowing  that  I  was  anxious  to  be  with  you,  Colmey 
told  me  to  go  with  you,  that  he  would  lead  my  horse  home 
for  me.  He  took  a  near  path  for  home  and  went  off  in  a 
gallop." 

"Mr.  Colmey  is  interesting  simply  on  account  of  his 
strangeness;  nothing  more.  You  can  but  like  him,  for  he 
holds  your  horse  for  you,  and  then,  stable-boy-like,  he  leads 
him  home."  Miss  Culpepper  could  not  keep  her  temper 
down. 


Colmey  Place  185 

"Well,  Miss  Carrie,  I  must  say  this  for  my  absent  friend: 
he  is  every  inch  a  gentleman  and  stands  on  his  own  boot 
heels." 

Miss  Culpepper  made  a  mock  courtesy  and  said,  "Oh, 
Mr.  Thompson,  so  chivalric!" 

The  next  morning  after  breakfast  the  ladies  were  stroll- 
ing in  the  grove  and  the  gentlemen  were  inspecting  their 
horses. 

As  Colmey  and  Thompson  were  coming  up  from  the 
stables  Thompson  remarked,  "Colmey,  I  can  tell  you  Miss 
Culpepper  is  no  lowly  pimpernel,  no!  She  is  an  exquisite 
exotic." 

"Tulip  or  orchid?" 

"Now  here,  Colmey,  be  careful." 

"Thompson,  a  man  is  not  far  from  the  madhouse  that  is 
too  free  in  expressing  his  opinion  as  to  the  beauty  or  the 
want  thereof  in  a  handsome  woman." 

"Why  so,  Colmey." 

"Well,  you  don't  know  who  she  may  marry,  and  when 
married,  if  told  what  was  said,  and  it  is  not  what  she  thinks 
is  due  her  comeliness,  she  becomes  once  and  for  all  that 
man's  steady,  relentless  enemy." 

"You  think  that  I  may  marry  Miss  Culpepper,  eh?  What 
say  you,  Colmey?"  Colmey  walked  away.  "The  devil 
take  him.  His  repression  of  expression  exasperates  one. 
When  he  wishes  to  be  taciturn,  confound  him,  he  can  be  as 
silent  and  solemn  as  a  monastery." 

Next  morning,  on  getting  with  Miss  Culpepper,  Mr. 
Thompson  felt  ill  at  ease,  not  knowing  what  might  be  in 
her  mind  toward  him.  Thompson  had  lain  awake  nearly 
all  night  revolving  in  his  mind  what  course  to  pursue  next 
day  towards  Miss  Carrie,  should  she  demand  by  word  or 
look  for  him  to  take  back  his  words  as  to  Colmey.  What 
was  he  to  do?  He  was  determined  to  stand  by  his  friend, 
come  what  might. 

"Mr.  Thompson,   I  pondered  over  last  night  our  few 


186  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

words  about  Mr.  Colmey,  and  I  feel  that  I  should  apolo- 
gize to  you.  I  lost  control  of  myself  and  was  too  hasty  in 
my  denunciation." 

"Now,  Miss  Culpepper,  please  don't  say  anything  more. 
I  accept,  and  thankfully  so.  My  friendship  made  me  a 
little  over-zealous." 

"I  must  say  I  admire  your  manliness  in  taking  a  reason- 
able stand  for  your  friend." 

'Your  words  lift  a  great  burden  off  my  heart." 

It  was  nearing  sunset.  Off  in  the  deep  woods  Boiling 
was  chaffing:  "I  must  leave  here  before  I  lose  my  head. 
Women  must  be  riddles,  and  only  his  Satanic  Majesty  can 
read  them  aright.  Now,  there  is  my  cousin;  she  is  as  beau- 
tiful as  a  dream,  a  woman  well  educated,  splendid  phy- 
sique, and  of  remarkable  intelligence.  There  is  Thomp- 
son, almost  homely,  rather  undersized,  and  more  marked 
for  making  money  than  anything  else;  he  is  nothing  to 
compare  with  Al  Branch,  except  in  cold  cash.  And  there 
is  Miss  Montfort,  fair  and  rosy,  size  incomparable,  and 
disposition  almost  divine,  and  there  stands  the  muddle  to 
me.  Before  Colmey  came  on  the  scene  I  felt  sure  of  my 
ground.  She  was  ever  good-humored,  ready  to  join  in  all 
diversions,  and  the  life  and  stay  of  the  party.  My  hair  is 
blacker  than  Colmey's,  my  eye  is  as  dark  as  his  is  blue,  we 
are  about  the  same  height,  he  is  fair-complexioned  and  I 
am  dark,  and  yet  something  tells  me  that  my  earnest  solici- 
tation for  her  every  comfort  does  not  equal  the  uppish, 
self-willed  ways  of  Colmey.  Are  women  freaks  of  nature? 
Are  they  responsible  beings?" 

"I  do  hope  Frank  will  take  his  valet  along  with  him  to 
hold  his  horse  or  go  on  errands." 

"Oh,  Carrie!  Don't  be  so  harrassed  over  the  inevitable. 
If  he  is  short  in  manners  toward  you,  it  is  to  be  deplored, 
not  condemned.  The  maker  of  the  broken  wheel  is  the 
only  one  that  can  mend  the  deficiency." 


Colmey  Place  187 

"Yes,  I  do  innately  yearn  to  bridle  his  tongue  and  to 
tourniquet  his  languid  smile  of  incredulity." 

"Oh,  Carrie!  Please  don't  so  worry  yourself  over  tri- 
fles. Neither  your  praise  or  censure  will  make  him  waver 
an  iota  in  his  undertakings." 

"Yes,  that's  it.  My  displeasure  or  likes  affect  him  but 
little.  He  is  self-centered.  I  have  always  had  a  caustic 
distaste  for  your  doughty  cavalier  of  Scottish  extraction. 
May,  did  you  notice  his  extra-fine  waistcoat,  his  Irish  linen 
handkerchief?" 

"A  truce,  a  truce  to  your  invective.  You  force  me  to 
compare  the  effect  upon  one  of  the  beatific  exhortations  on 
the  Mount  and  the  Yiddish  harangue  around  the  walls  of 
sacred  Moriah.  One  soothes  and  comforts  the  spirit,  and 
the  other  bruises  the  ear  that  hears  it.  Carrie,  remember, 
mercy  is  promised  to  those  who  are  merciful.  As  to  his 
clothes,  they  seem  to  have  come  from  a  first-class  crafts- 


man." 


"You  May,  but  a  moment  ago  a  little  leveret,  now  leven- 
fire.  You  peach-pink  perfection,  you  shall  have  your  own 
sweet  way,  old  girl;  only,  May,  do  leave  off  this  pot- 
planting,  this  flower  business  of  yours.  Kitchen-midden 
study  would  be  more  profitable." 

"Well,  Carrie,  salve  lucre  never  appealed  to  me.  Dear, 
we  are  not  at  Adverick  Castle,  where  there  are  motionless 
tarns  and  pools  and  artificial  pillars.  No,  but  we  are  at 
the  old  Colmey  Place,  where  the  air  smells  sweet  and  the 
flowers  love  to  bloom." 

"Yes,  true;  very  true.  But,  May,  say,  off  with  the  old 
love  and  on  with  the  new.  Get  out  of  the  Valley  of  Amar, 
cease  to  be  defiatory.  In  a  word,  May,  get  married.  You 
hear?  For  it  grieves  me  to  think  of  the  loneliness,  the 
dreariness  that  is  sure  to  visit  you  in  the  coming  years 
of  your  maidenhood.     May,  marry  Tom." 

"Marry  him  yourself."    May  walked  away. 


188  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"I  love  May,  and  she  shall  marry  a  man  that  will  adore 
her."  She  stood  and  thought.  "Yes,  I  will  fix  this,  and 
at  once."  Every  movement  of  Colmey  was  weighed  and 
watched,  and  next  to  impossible  it  was  for  May  to  get  out 
of  her  sight. 

After  supper  Colmey  went  as  usual  and  sat  down  on  the 
front  porch  near  the  parlor  window.  Carrie  called  her 
cousin  from  the  library  and  walked  with  him  near  the  win- 
dow where  Colmey  was  sitting,  and  said  fairly  aloud: 
"Tom,  I  am  delighted!  May  Montfort  has  told  me  all, 
that  she  had  loved  you  for  years,  and  now  you  would  soon 
be—" 

Boiling  tried  to  deny  it,  but  Carrie  would  not  let  him 
speak  out,  and  taking  his  arm  remarked  loudly:  "Well, 
Cousin  Tom,  I  am  glad  it  is — ,"  was  all  Colmey  heard  as 
they  passed  over  to  the  library  room. 

Carrie  did  not  hear  the  suppressed  and  agonizing  groan 
that  escaped  Colmey.  Boiling,  in  the  library,  said:  "Cousin 
Carrie,  it  is  not  so.  Wish  it  was.  I'm  not  engaged  to 
Miss  Montfort." 

All  were  getting  ready  for  the  race.  May  noticed  the 
next  morning  that  Colmey  was  pale,  respectful,  and  distant. 
She  asked  him  on  the  porch,  "Mr.  Colmey,  I  hope  you  are 
not  ill?"  Carrie  came  up  and  jocosely  remarked:  "No, 
no;  Mr.  Colmey  is  only  apprehensive  about  the  race.  Now 
come,  May,  let's  get  ready  for  it;  come." 

Mrs.  Colmey  called,  "Jean,  come  here." 

"Aunt,  it  is  beautiful." 

"I  wish  for  you  to  have  this  picture,  it  is  an  exquisite 
one;  you  notice,  the  lace  and  drapery  show  perfectly  and 
artistically." 

"Who  is  it  by,  aunt?" 

"By  Deveret  the  elder." 

"Well,  dear  aunt,  I  thank  you,  and  when  I  look  upon  this 
pastoral  scene  I  will  ever  think  of  you." 

"Jean,  are  you  unwell?     Has  anything  gone  wrong?" 


Colmey  Place  189 

That  night  May  Montfort  sat  fingering  the  old,  well 
preserved  harpsichord  while  Carrie  and  Boiling  were  sing- 
ing with  much  heartiness,  "Glenlogie." 

"Three  score  o  nobles  rode  the  king's  ha  — 
But  bonnie  Glenlogie,  the  flower  of  them  a, 
Wi  his  milk-white  steed  and  his  bonnie  black  e'e — 
Glenlogie,  dear  mither,  Glenlogie  for  me" 

Squire  Colmey  alone  stood  beneath  the  lofty  blue  cedar; 
in  every  room  the  lights  burned  brightly.  His  thoughts 
went  back  to  his  brother  George:  how  they  had  climbed  the 
tall  trees  for  foxgrapes,  how  they  had  trapped  partridges, 
and  with  bow  and  arrow  brought  down  robin  redbreast. 
His  eyes  became  moistened.  Family  ties — seemingly  a 
sum  of  indifference — are  really  the  potentialities  of  life, 
they  form  the  sacred  pulsations  of  the  soul. 

He  retraced  his  steps,  slowly  entered  his  bedroom,  meet- 
ing his  wife,  whose  face  was  all  smiles.  "Does  'Glenlogie' 
bring  up  to  you  fond  memories,  dear?  Does  the  song 
remind  you  of  the  last  time  we  walked  through  the  castle 
grounds,  those  shady  avenues,  and  the  drive  down  the  white 
cartway?  Tell  me,  shall  we  together,  ever  again  smell  in 
dewy  freshness  the  heather  bloom?  See,  my  husband,  my 
hair  has  turned  so  very  gray." 

"Sweet  wife,  this  I  know,  this  for  certain,  living  or  dying, 
heaven  grant,  I  pray,  that  we  be  not  parted  from  each  other 
but  a  day;  for  as  we  grow  older,  my  sweet  wife,  you  grow 
to  me  dearer,  lovelier." 


XXXI 


THE  RACE 


"/  will  mount  myself  upon  a  courser,  whose  delightful  steps 
Shall  make  the  gazer  joy  to  see  him  tread" 

J 

The  day  before  the  race  'Squire  Colmey's  overseer  took 
hands  with  him  and  went  over  the  race  road,  removed  every 
obstacle  and  trimmed  up  every  overhanging  limb.  He  had 
put  up  a  small  stand,  six  feet  by  fourteen.  From  above 
the  stand  a  pole  was  run  up  with  a  ring  on  it,  and  on  a  tree 
opposite  and  at  proper  height  another  ring  was  placed. 
From  these  rings  there  could  be  suspended  across  the  track 
a  wide  red  ribbon.  Uncle  Tyrus,  the  blacksmith,  had  the 
horses  over  to  his  shop  to  examine  their  hoofs  and  smooth 
all  projecting  nail  heads. 

The  overseer  had  given  in  the  stableyard  orders  for  the 
race  horses  to  have  a  full  supper,  but  a  light  breakfast. 
Remo,  being  of  a  very  suspicious  turn  of  mind,  told  Tasker, 
"You  go  and  wait  on  Marse  Jean  till  morning."  He 
secretly  crept  into  Merlin's  stall.  He  caressed  the  horse 
and  murmured,  "I'm  here,  old  boy.  I  don't  know  what  de 
Virginia  nigger  may  do  to  you  'fo  mornin'." 

The  gentlemen  at  the  appointed  time  gaily  rode  up  to 
the  stand  for  instructions.  The  ladies  had  preceded  them 
and  awaited  the  coming  of  the  knights.  "Here,  Cousin 
Tom,  are  my  colors — the  winning  colors — the  gold  and 
blue." 

"And  here,  Mr.  Colmey,  is  my  airlette,  the  crimson  and 
the  white,  and  the  moss  rose  for  good  luck.  I  know  that  I 
have  not  misplaced  my  confidence."  Both  of  the  gentle- 
men bowed  profoundly  and  rode  for  the  track.     As  they 

190 


The  Race  191 

rode  down  to  the  start  post,  Boiling  critically  surveyed 
Colmey's  horse.  Colmey  rode  carelessly  and  noticed  no 
one,  no  horse,  no  distance. 

"Mr.  Colmey,  have  you  any  preference  as  to  the  side?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Well,  as  my  mare  seems  to  do  best  on  the  left,  I  will 
ride  here." 

"I  see,  Mr.  Boiling,  that  the  red  flag  is  up." 

"Good!  And  now  if  my  bonnie  beast  can  show  her  silk 
fetlocks  to  your  horse,  I  shall  be  thankful  and  a  little 
proud." 

'You  want  your  gray  to  wear  the  flowers,  do  you?" 

"Yes,  I  do,  and  downright  badly." 

The  horn  sounded,  "make  ready,"  then  twice  the  air  was 
filled  with  a  cheery,  "Come  on."  Boiling  gave  his  mare  a 
good  start  and  rode  grandly.  The  horse  hung  to  her  side 
until  near  the  stand,  and  then  seemed  to  give  way,  and  the 
mare  ran  over  a  length  ahead  and  nimbly  passed  under  the 
ribbon. 

"My  money,  May,  my  money!  Pay  up."  The  ladies 
had  put  up  three  shillings  apiece.  "I  feel,  May,  that  it  is 
hardly  fair  for  me  to  take  your  coin,  but  as  we  are  to  visit 
the  gypsy  camp,  it  will  help  me  along.  Now,  how  about 
three  more  shillings  against  your  black?     I  dare  you." 

"I  won't  take  a  dare  from  you,  win  or  lose." 

"There,  child,  I  need  some  silver  for  the  old  gypsy 
queen,  and  this  is  an  easy  way  to  win  it.  May,  dear,  I  wish 
I  might  have  been  allowed  to  dust  your  colors.  Really, 
Mr.  Colmey  seemed  inhumanly  indifferent  to  the  fact  that 
he  was  perforce  to  look  at  Lady  Gray's  heels." 

"Sometimes,  Carrie,  our  indifference  is  assumed  to  cover 
our  interior  anxiety.  You  know  there  are  two  more  heats, 
and  the  tide  can  turn.     Let's  wait  and  see." 

"I  just  can't  help  it,  but  that  stolid  don't-care  look  of 
Jean  Colmey's  nettles  me  through  and  through." 


192  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"I  saw  nothing  in  his  face  that  should  put  you  in  such  a 
framfil.  Of  course,  he  may  feel  much  hurt  over  being  out- 
raced." 

"Yes,  'tis  just  this,  May:  the  lady  is  too  fast  for  the 
horse."  The  second  heat  was  on  and  Carrie  was  hilarious. 
May  was  composed,  but  at  heart  she  felt  ill  at  ease. 

"Miss  Culpepper,  you  may  be  correct  in  your  estimation 
of  horses,  and  I  would  be  glad  to  agree  with  you,  but  my 
opinion  is  that  Colmey  held  back  his  horse,  and  was  testing 
Boiling,  for  he  sat  straight  up,  and  was  pulling  his  mount." 

"Oh,  now,  Mr.  Thompson,  don't  you  let  your  friendship 
bias  your  good  judgment.  The  lady  came  under  the  ribbon 
well  in  the  lead,  and  looks  fresh,  and  listen,  Mr.  Thompson, 
the  cry  is,  'Three  to  one  on  the  gray!' 

"You  may  be  right,  but  I  am  certain  I  saw  a  mischievous 
smile  lurking  in  Colmey's  mobile  face.  This  time  the 
hurdles  are  to  be  placed,  and  Colmey  is  a  proud  fellow, 
and  I  think  this  time  we  will  see  that  he  forces  his  horse 
squarely  to  the  front.  My  judgment  is,  you  had  better  not 
bet  odds  against  the  black.  I  think  the  gray's  legs  are  too 
small." 

The  horn  blew.  The  cry  went  up,  "Here  they  come!" 
Both  horses  started  well — ear  to  ear  and  knee  to  knee.  The 
hurdles  were  taken,  the  racing  was  glorious.  Neck  to 
neck,  they  flew  for  the  ribbon.  May  cried  out,  "The  crim- 
son, the  crimson  leads!"  Colmey  came  under  the  ribbon 
a  full  length  ahead.  He  was  leaning  slightly  forward,  and 
firmly  held  two-thirds  of  the  rein,  and  his  horse  was  pulling 
at  the  bit. 

"Shades  of  Caesar!  Cousin,  why  did  you  play  along 
the  track?  Men  do  act  so  provokingly  at  times.  Yes, 
victory  in  your  grasp,  and  you  let  the  lady  saunter." 

As  the  gentlemen  went  up  to  the  judge  for  place  and  last 
orders,  Mr.  Thompson  remarked  under  his  breath,  "Miss 
Culpepper,  your  cousin  was  serious.  My  judgment  is  that 
Colmey's  horse  has  not  been  given  bridle  and  speed." 


The  Race  193 

"Mr.  Thompson,  our  estimates  of  the  situation  are  widely 
variant,  sir." 

May  Montfort  was  intently  searching  Colmey's  face. 

"Well,  gentlemen,  it  is  now  one-one.  This  heat  will 
decide  the  day."  The  hurdles  were  ordered  higher.  "Now, 
gentlemen,  to  your  posts!" 

Reaching  the  starting  point,  and  being  allowed  ten  min- 
utes for  rest,  both  men  dismounted.  Merlin  inched  up  to 
Gretchen  and  lovingly  nosed  her  neck.  The  gray  backed 
her  ears,  tossed  her  head,  and  bit  the  air  as  if  she  was 
much  displeased  with  his  impertinence.  Boiling  ordered 
his  man  to  "rub  her  legs."  Colmey  handed  Merlin  to 
Remo,  and  told  him  to  "walk  him."  The  horn  sounded, 
"Get  ready!"  and  now  a  loud  and  clear,  "Come  on!" 

Boiling  mounted  nervously.  The  thought  of  those  mis- 
erably high  hurdles  disquieted  him.  Gretchen  seemed  anx- 
ious to  put  on  airs  and  display  her  nimbleness.  Merlin 
stood  sidewise  and  evidenced  his  admiration  for  the  frisky 
beauty  by  a  low,  soft  whinny.  Colmey  mounted,  reined 
his  horse  roughly,  and  at  the  drop  touched  spur  gently  to 
his  flank.  Both  of  the  animals  took  the  first  hurdle  with 
ease,  but  the  second  bothered  the  mare  to  make.  When 
she  got  over  she  took  up  her  task  gamely  and  raced  for  her 
life.  The  stallion  was  now  three  lengths  ahead.  Colmey 
saw  before  him  May  Montfort's  anxious  face.  He  bent 
down  and  cried  out,  "Merlin,  Merlin!"  He  savagely  dug 
his  spurs  into  his  horse's  side  and  sat  down  in  his  saddle 
steady.  The  horse  fairly  leaped  into  the  air,  never  before 
had  his  master  acted  so  cruelly  to  him,  but  now  the  object 
and  not  the  horse  was  uppermost  in  mind.  If  the  black 
lagged  a  little  that  he  might  keep  with  the  pretty  gray,  he 
was  abruptly  made  to  know  that  his  master  demanded  of 
him  his  very  best. 

May  and  Carrie  were  standing,  now  leaning  forward. 
The  cry,  "Get  out  of  the  way  there!  They  come,  they 
come!"     May  triumphantly   shouted,   "The   crimson,   the 

13 


194  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

crimson!"  The  horse  seemed  to  lie  down  on  the  earth,  his 
ears  forward  as  if  he  heard  the  call  of  his  plain-racing 
sires.  His  great  leaps  ate  up  distance,  and  his  tail  hung 
behind  him  like  a  black  banner  unfurled.  "Merlin!"  and 
the  cruel  rowels  cut  again  his  bleeding  sides.  The  mare 
had  kept  her  place,  but  to  lookers-on  she  seemed  to  stand 
stone  still.  Every  eye  was  now  on  the  great  horse  that  came 
on.  Nostrils  wide  and  with  phenomenal  speed,  he  swept 
past  the  stand  like  a  mighty  eagle  in  full  flight.  Colmey 
sat  him,  his  head  and  body  bent  low,  reins  loose  and  spurs 
bloody.  Boiling  rode  up  and  gracefully  lifted  his  hat  and 
said,  "Badly,  but  fairly  beaten." 

"Not  so,  Cousin  Tom.  Those  useless  and  bungling  hur- 
dles did  the  work  for  the  gray." 

Poor  Carrie!  Her  thin  lips  were  set,  and  her  eyes  full 
of  wrath.  Mad,  yes  mad,  and  full  of  fight  to  her  very 
fingers'  ends.  Colmey  checked  his  horse  about  one-quarter 
of  a  mile  away  and  came  riding  back,  slowly  and  modestly. 
Boiling  bowed  and  at  once  called  out,  "Mr.  Colmey,  my 
congratulations,  sir.     You  have  a  wonderful  horse." 

Colmey  lifted  his  hat  and  bowed  a  graceful  courtesy. 
The  ladies  came  from  the  stand  and  cordially  compli- 
mented the  gentlemen.  May  went  to  Boiling  and  said, 
"Your  beautiful  animal  dislikes  the  barriers."  Going  up 
to  Colmey  she  said  softly,  "Well,  well  done!  Nothing 
could  have  been  done  more  handsomely."  She  extended 
her  trembling  hand,  Colmey  bent  forward  and  lifted  it  to 
his  lips.  His  eyes  dived  down  into  her  eyes,  she  felt  and 
knew  he  loved  her.  "Mr.  Colmey,  let  me  place  the  colors 
in  this  locket,  and  I  ask  of  you  to  keep  the  two  in  remem- 
brance of  this  occasion." 

Carrie,  ever  on  the  watch-tower,  cried  out:  "Oho! 
Look,  Cousin  Tom,  how  red  May  is.  Tell,  May,  what  did 
he  say?     0,  you  bower-bird!" 

The  crowd  that  had  ranged  themselves  by  the  roadway 
now  pushed  in,  praising  the  horses  and  scanning  the  men. 


The  Race  195 

"Friend  Biggs,  that  fellow  from  over  the  Border  Line 
rode  mighty  well." 

"He  sure  did,  but  our  man  done  him  up  from  heel  to 
toe." 

"Biggs,  I  feel  sorry  for  the  gray  mare.  She  did  run  so 
fine,  so  very  game." 

"Savage,  I  told  you  the  horse  had  too  much  bone  leg  for 
her." 

Merlin  had  the  wreath  of  flowers  placed  around  his  neck 
by  May  Montfort  amidst  the  plaudits  of  the  assembled 
neighbors.  Merlin,  proud,  victorious  Merlin,  pawed  the 
earth,  champed  his  bit  in  lusty  pride.  He  seemed  to 
desire  to  tell  Lady  Gray  Gretchen  that  it  was  presumptuous 
folly  on  her  part  to  put  to  test  his  masculine  sovereignty  as 
to  time,  endurance,  and  space. 

It  had  been  as  a  sweet  June  day  to  all  except  steady 
fighting  Carrie.  In  the  mansion  all  were  merry,  making 
ready  for  the  dinner  hour.  Down  in  the  stables  the  horses 
were  being  rubbed  down  under  the  great  shed  and  trouble 
was  brewing.  Tasker,  one  of  Colmey's  servants,  was  a 
young  negro,  full  of  fun  and  frolic.  He  could  not  abstain 
from  badgering  Boiling's  man.  Under  the  large  shed 
where  the  horses  could  be  tied  out  adjoining  the  stalls,  the 
following  conversation  took  place: 

"Crow  Chapman,  crow.  Remo,  don'  you  wish  you 
knowed  of  a  horse  over  in  Virginny  dat  could  run  jest  a 
little?" 

"Task,  I'se  done  tole  you  dat  I  was  tired  of  your  cock- 
crowing,  and  I  is." 

"Keep  you  mouf  shet.  Nobody's  talkin'  to  you, 
Compton." 

The  excitement  and  passion  engendered  in  the  white  folks 
in  the  morning  hours  had  now  been  taken  up  by  the  fellows 
of  color  at  high  noon. 

"I  know  you  wuz.  I  begged  Marse  Tom  to  ride  Red 
Guy,  but  he  wouldn't  do  hit." 


196  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Spose  he  had?  Spose  he  had  rid  Yellow  Sal?  What's 
the  difference?" 

"Task,  you  and  Compton  stop  your  fussin'."  Remo, 
thoughtful  and  agreeable,  was  wait-man  and  head  of  the 
others. 

"I'm  not  fussin'.     I'm  truthin'." 

"You'se  a  dogeatin'  liar.     You — " 

In  a  second  of  time  Tasker  and  Compton  were  mixing 
up,  slugging  each  other  fiercely.  Both  young,  both  spoil- 
ing for  a  fisticuff,  it  was  a  set-to  worth  seeing.  Remo  re- 
marked to  Sym,  as  the  fight  was  going  on,  "Ole  Task's  got 
all  he  can  tote."  Sym  became  alarmed  for  his  cousin  and 
caught  up  a  hatchet  and  called  out,  "Kill  him,  Task.  Damn 
him,  kill  him.  If  you  don't,  I  will."  Remo  hollered, 
"Stop,  Sym!  Don't  hit  him.  Marse  Jean  will  whip  hell 
out  of  all  of  us  if  he  hears  of  this  fuss.     Stop!" 

Sym  restrained  himself,  but  he  deftly  tripped  Compton. 
and  as  he  fell,  Tasker  covered  him.  "He's  agougin  me! 
He's  agougin  me!"  sang  out  Compton.  Remo  jumped  and 
pulled  Tasker  off,  and  handed  him  to  Sym.  "Now,  both 
of  you  niggers  go  and  draw  water  for  dem  horses."  Sym 
led  Tasker  away,  and  Compton  bawled  out,  "An  yes,  I'm 
goin'  straight  and  tell  Marse  Tom,  and  we'll  dig  out  from 
these  durn  diggins — three  on  one.  Afore  God,  I  never  saw 
such  a  set  of  niggers!" 

"No,  you  won't,  neither,"  and  Remo  seized  him  as  he 
started  for  his  master.  "You  look  ahere,  Compton,  behave 
yourself,  for  damn  me,  if  you  go  an  open  your  mouf  about 
this  fracas,  I  will  maul  the  stuffin'  outen  you.  Dis  is  plain 
talk,  an'  I'm  not  afoolin'.  Hit's  over  now;  drap  it,  for 
Marse  Jean  will  blame  me,  sure.  Tasker  thinks  himself 
mighty  smart  and  is  de  one  alius  raisin'  a  row." 

"I  think  I'se  been  treated  scandalous,  I  do." 

In  a  concilatory  tone,  Remo  asked  Compton,  "Can  I  help 
you  with  the  gray?  She  certainly  is  mighty  fine,  and  I 
think  purty,  too." 


XXXII 


UPSTAIRS  AT  COLMEY  PLACE 

'There  wildwoods  grow  and  rivers  flow, 
And  monie  a  hill's  between; 

But  day  and  night  my  fancy's  flight, 
Is  ever  wi  my  Jean." 


••v 


'Say,  May — or,  as  it  is  in  the  Montfort  Bible,  Sarah 
Elizabeth — no  woman's  neck  is  prettier  than  yours  in  shape, 
length,  and  color  since  the  days  of  Mother  Eve." 

"Praise  is  much  more  endurable  than  censure." 

"And  hear  me,  ye  saints,  such  curls,  graceful  curls, 
upon  your  neck,  May — it  foretells  your  future;  you  are  to 
be  a  widow  or  you  are  to  marry  a  widower." 

"The  future  is  to  be  unfolded.  Rife  are  the  changes  of 
life.     I  had  rather  be  grieved  after  than  left  to  grieve 


over." 


"You  silly  goose,  you  impatient  one  with  such  twaddle. 
Is  there  but  one  gander?  Bah!  By  my  troth,  I  would 
prove  loyal  to  my  lord;  but,  by  the  saintly  tutor  of  King 
Alfred,  if  the  dread  fowler  should  bring  him  low,  I  would 
not  think  it  obligatory  on  me  to  ever  after  go  about  quack- 
ing, 'Where's  my  Jacob!'     0,  no!" 

"Carrie,  you  may  be  right,  but  I  believe  a  happy  mar- 
riage is  a  gift  from  heaven,  and  the  golden  earnest  of  my 
soul  is  to  wait  trustfully  and  submissively  in  all  things  to 
His  guidance." 

"Silly,  don't  you  know  you  have  a  part  to  do?  Do  you 
catch  mackerel  without  bait,  hook  or  net?" 

"It  is  not  necessary  to  be  phrenetic,  Carrie.  Let's  have 
no  disputation.     If  you  prefer  the  brook-willow,  soft  and 

197 


198  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

pliable,  and  I  prefer  the  water  beech,  hard  and  resistible, 
it  is  all  well  and  good.  If  you  would  choose  a  well-broken 
pony  and  I  a  good-sized,  spirited  horse,  whose  strength  I 
would  not  question  to  carry  me  through,  why,  it  is  simply 
satisfying  our  several  fancies.  I  do  hope  if  I  am  ever 
blest  with  a  husband  that  he  will  show  up  capable  to  govern 
and  direct — every  inch  a  man.  His  judgment  as  to  diplo- 
macy and  finance  I  should  bow  to  and  not  question.  Of 
course,  I  should  guide  the  house  and  suggest  what  I  thought 
was  best  to  do,  when  asked." 

"What!  bow  to  and  not  question?  No  cock  a'  hoop  for 
me.  You  would  be  his  slave,  would  you?  What!  I  am 
not  sensible  enough  to  grasp  the  fullness  of  a  proposition? 
Gramercy!  then  I  ought  not  to  be  wife  or  mother.  I  tell 
you,  May,  my  nature  is  to  be  queen  bee." 

"To  me,  Carrie,  an  unenviable  position  to  occupy:  drones 
and  neuters  all  around  you.  I  had  rather  take  much  cock 
a'  hoop  than  be  forced  to  stomach  such  royal  feeding." 

"Don't  you  know,  May,  he  would  look  upon  you  as  a 
Polly  in  a  cage?" 

"Don't  you  know,  Carrie,  your  nature  leads  you  to  be- 
lieve that  opposition,  not  love,  rules  the  camp  and  the 
grove : 

"'You  booby!  See,  this  is  the  way  I  shall  play  with  my 
fan,  thus  hide  behind  the  ostrich  fluff,  to  smile  at  Frank  or 
bow  to  Dandy  Nash.  Watch  me,  dear.  May,  by  the  way, 
did  I  tell  you  about  seeing  Rachel  Ellington?  I  tell  you, 
dearie,  money  is  the  passe-partout.  From  my  childhood  I 
have  craved  riches,  power." 

"What  about  Rachel?   She  was  a  sweet-faced  girl  to  me." 

"Yes,  and  a  plenty  of  gumption  in  her  noddle.  You 
recollect  her  uncle  paid  her  school  expenses  at  Richmond. 
She  would  stay  head  of  our  class.  She  would  often  cast  a 
look  of  pity  on  me  because  she  could  out-spell,  out-read, 
out-compose  me.  I  wanted  to  wring  her  long  neck.  I 
passed  her  near  Petersburg.     She  was  afoot,  neatly  but 


Upstairs  at  Colmey  Place  199 

poorly  attired.  I  was  well  dressed,  driver  and  carriage. 
Our  station  was  well  marked  and  I  did  so  enjoy  it;  ah 
there!" 

"You  spoke  kindly  to  Rachel  when  you  passed  her?" 

"Indeed,  I  did  not.  She  made  me  feel  her  mental 
superiority  at  school,  and  I  in  my  equipage  made  her  feel 
my  wealth  on  the  road.  What  is  the  use  of  having  power, 
possessing  much  of  the  goods  of  life,  if  you  can't  make 
some  one  feel  it?  The  kinship  of  the  species,  yes,  like 
unto  the  common  crow  and  the  peregrin  falcon.  Don't  you 
know  the  bishop  enjoys  his  bigness  over  the  rector?  No 
ranging  with  the  humble  and  the  lowly  for  me.  May, 
there  is  no  discretion  but  some  hurt  experienced  in  trying 
to  make  an  impression,  in  running  against  an  iron  post, 
but  ah!  hear  me:  to  swell  by  a  party  formerly  known,  who 
overtopped  you  in  a  way,  is  the  making  of  a  dual  impres- 
sion. In  fact,  for  one  it  is  acute  annoyance,  and  on  one's 
self  it  is  the  essence  of  elation.     Why  not?" 

"Poor  Rachel!  I  feel  sorry  for  her;  she  was  ambitious 
and  very  quick  to  learn.     I  really  liked  her." 

"You  like  her?  Oh,  no!  If  she  was  to  come  up  to  me 
and  ask  me  if  I  did  not  remember  her,  I  would  tell  her  I 
did  not." 

"Oh,  Carrie!  that  would  be  telling  a ,  that  you  had 

forgotten — " 

"I  am  a  stranger  to  such  maudlin  sentiment.  By  my 
faith,  I  would  have  you  tell  me,  most  learned  lady,  is  there 
in  the  decalogue  'Thou  shalt  not  lie?'  for,  for  a  truth,  to 
have  lots  of  enjoyment  one  must  perforce  tell  many  little 
ones." 

"I  heartily  detest  a  falsehood.  I  have  no  patience  with 
shifty  speeches.  If  from  the  thunder  over  Mount  Sinai 
there  came  not  directly  'thou  shalt  not,'  from  bloody  Cal- 
vary came  that  liars  will  be  shut  out  with  dogs  and  other 
abominations,  from  entrance  within  the  pearly  gates.  And, 
Carrie,  it  may  be  that  there  should  be  different  standards 


200  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

of  morals  and  law  for  government  of  state,  community  and 
individual,  and  I  dare  say  there  may  come  out  of  evil  some 
good;  but  I  hold  that  the  old  beaten  track  of  fairness  is  the 
safer  to  walk  in.  The  daily  duel  between  duty  and  double 
dealing  can  have  ultimately  but  one  stoppage — sinister 
failure.  You  know  the  vile  silently  pays  homage  to  the 
right-minded,  and  it  should  be  considered  more  necessitous 
for  women  for  their  personal  safety  to  keep  the  rudder  true, 
for  one  false  step  leads  to  another.  Themistocles  won  the 
wall,  but  oh,  what  a  sad  ending!" 

"For  pity's  sake,  enough!"  Carrie  went  and  put  her 
arm  around  May.  "You  Rhesus,  you,  let  us,  my  dearest, 
inhale  the  passing  aroma,  gather  and  vase  the  velvet-leaved 
flowers  while  blooming.  Surely  we  are  not  expected  to 
cut  new  roads,  build  risky  bridges,  and  basin  the  sides  of 
waterways.  We  are  to  come  along  after  the  danger  and  the 
work  is  over,  with  music  and  songs  of  praise.  So  now, 
Bulbul,  come,  let's  dress  for  dinner  and  then  play  lawn 
tennis.  Ho!  for  my  racket.  The  mistress  court  of  love 
and  beauty.  Let's  sing,  dear.  Away  with  cankering  care, 
what  care  I  for  tomorrow?" 

May  commenced  laying  out  her  dress  and  linens  for  din- 
ner, and  after  then  for  ball  and  base  lines. 

"May,  leave  off  wearing  that  mantilla;  wear  your  silk 
pelerine,  you  hear?  Listen,  May!  I  would  give  a  portion 
of  my  patrimony  as  certain  as  my  true  name  is  Alice  Beau- 
mont Culpepper,  if  those  two  beaux  of  mine  would  come 
over  and  visit  us.  To  Frank  I  would  blow  warm  today, 
the  same  day  I  would  be  blowing  cold  to  Dandy.  I  would 
keep  them  guessing,  I  would." 

"If  Mr.  Colmey  did  not  keep  so  close,  and  you  could  get 
him  to  be  with  you,  you  might  add  him  to  the  number  of 
your  captures." 

"Oh,  no,  May,  you  are  wide  of  the  mark.  Such  seed- 
ling as  you  are,  that  will  never  grow  to  be  a  full-grown  tree, 
would  catch  his  fancy  sooner  than  myself.     Unless  I  mis- 


Upstairs  at  Colmey  Place  201 

judge  him,  he  is  too  sensitized  with  self-love  to  give  matri- 
mony a  serious  consideration;  the  thought  would  be  as 
pelty  wool  to  his  nostrils.  May,  his  extancy  is  so  insuffer- 
able; ain't  it  so?" 

"Unless  my  woman's  eye  deceives  me,  Carrie,  Jean  Col- 
mey is  a  true  man,  the  soul  of — " 

"Ah!  there's  the  little  maid.     What  is  it,  Malvina?" 

"My  mistress  wishes  both  of  you  to  please  come  to  the 
library:  these  are  the  messages." 

"Whew!  Good,  by  granny!  Tom  Boiling,  Frank, 
Thompson,  and  Dandy  Nash  will  call  at  seven-thirty  this 
evening.     Now  for  some  real  fun,  ha!" 

"Now,  Miss  Alice  Beaumont  Culpepper,  don't  be  foul 
weather;  but,  dear  Carrie,  act  fairly  toward  them  and 
yourself." 

"Bless  me,  I  can  play  my  cards  best  without  conference 
with  you.  You  do  best  giving  alms  to  the  poor  and  reading 
the  Psalmist  to  the  blind.  Now  let's  see.  Fine!  fine!  One 
doe  fleet  of  foot,  two  bucks  ardent  and  jealous.  Now  for 
tales  of  love  my  moonlight!  ha!  Oh,  what  a  sensible 
woman  was  she,  'Fair  Jane  of  Kent,'  who,  without  cant  or 
quibble,  took  on  her  fourth  husband  joyfully." 

Colmey  Place  was  all  aglow  with  much  preparation. 
Guests  had  been  invited,  orders  had  been  issued  to  leave  off 
nothing  that  would  make  the  stay  of  the  Squire's  nephew  a 
joy,  a  relaxation.  A  Colmey  had  come  under  the  rooftree 
of  his  uncle,  from  a  long  stay  over  the  water;  a  favorite 
brother's  son  had  entered  the  doorway  of  Colmey  Place. 
Every  servant  soon  felt  that  a  young  master  was  sleeping  in 
the  mansion.  A  sweet  hum,  like  unto  a  summer  beehive, 
was  faintly  heard  everywhere.  We  love  our  own,  even 
when  they  are  derelicts;  and,  when  worthy,  we  almost 
worship. 


XXXIII 

THE  GYPSY  CAMP 

"The  web  of  one's  life  is  of  a  mingled  yarn, 
Good  and  ill  together." 

"May,  let's  run  away  and  visit  the  gypsy  camp.  Won't 
you,  May?     Say  yes." 

"What's  the  use?     I  don't  believe  in  such." 

"Show  me  thy  hand,  for  traced  therein  is  character.  Do 
thy  soul's  dearest  secrets  plain  appear  to  the  weird  sisters?" 

"You  don't  well  tell  me  what  the  lines  in  my  hand  are 
for.     What  do  these  markings  on  my  wrist  indicate?" 

"Is  it  unchancy,  May,  unchancy?" 

"Carrie,  I  fear  it  is  wrong.  The  gypsy  is  an  outcast. 
They  believe  in  Arabic  Romany  only.  We  are  advised  in 
the  Holy  Writ  to  beware  of  magicians  and  sorcerers." 

"Well,  how  came  they  here?  How  is  it  we  are  here? 
Holy  Writ,  fiddlesticks!  I  tell  you,  May,  life  is  a  mystery, 
and  in  the  unfolding  of  it  I  have  a  right  to  get  at  it  if  I  can. 
Why  not?" 

"Why  not  ask  me  why  the  wolf  is  here?  I  can  but  think 
it  is  safest  to  remain  well  away  from  such  nomadic  people." 

"Didn't  the  Holy  Child  of  Mary  talk  with  the  Evil  One 
on  the  mount?  Didn't  Michael,  the  angel,  strive  with 
Satan  over  the  body  of  Moses  on  Nebo?  Don't  day  and 
night,  good  and  ill,  keep  up  a  continuous  warfare?  May, 
we  are  but  poor,  human  beings,  pilgrims  in  a  strange  land, 
and  we  owe  it  to  ourselves  to  find  out  all  we  can  here  and 
hereafter." 

"Oh,  Carrie,  how  dare  you  question  Providence?  His 
ways  are  past  finding  out.     There  is  no  mistaking  the  fact 


The  Gypsy  Camp  203 

that  God  makes  no  mistakes.  But,  look  here,  I  boldly  say, 
The  Lord,  when  He  calls  His  people  to  confront  the  Prince 
of  Darkness,  gives  them  power  to  overcome  evil." 

"Now,  here,  May,  I  believe  in  the  Trinity,  I  read  my 
prayer-book  nightly,  and  I  need  no  preachment  from  you. 
You  are  a  little  tainted  with  heresy,  anyhow,  and  inclined 
to  make  excuses  for  Paul  Palmer." 

"Yes,  I  do  believe  in  the  pristine,  the  apostolic  sense  of 
the  truths;  yes,  preached  in  the  simplicity  of  the  despised 
Nazarene's  teachings." 

"But  here,  May,  I  like  the  surplice,  the  long-gowned 
priest;  but  we  are  getting  away  from  the  gypsy  camp.  Let 
the  men  wrangle  over  religion,  St.  Peter,  and  the  keys.  I 
am  just  dying  to  have  my  fortune  told;  anyhow,  the  palm 
of  my  hand  deciphered." 

"Well,  Carrie,  to  please  you  I  will  go;  but  I  cannot  think 
it  is  best  to  countenance  wandering  despisers  of  law  and 
order.  I  am  fully  aware  that  the  right  to  live  is  a  sacred 
right;  that  gypsies  have  as  much  right  to  live  and  have  a 
being  as  I  have;  but  I  will  not  give  in  that  nimble  and  sinis- 
ter tricks  should  be  recompensed." 

The  day  at  last  came.  It  was  crisp  and  bright.  Old 
Herod  struck  out  at  a  great  gate  and  the  freshness  of  the 
morning  air  was  invigorating  and  inspiring. 

"Oh,  May,  we  are  going  to  the  land  where  they  eat  only 
doves  and  frolicsome  kids.  You  know  that  breeds  hot 
brains,  filling  the  body  with  merriment  and  the  atmosphere 
with  revelry  and  joyfulness." 

"Yes,  Carrie,  where  the  eel  is  held  sacred,  the  crest  is  a 
catamount,  and  the  motto  is  'Carpe  diem.'  Being  in  love 
and  having  an  ardent  lover,  I  know  you  will  enjoy  a  good 
gypsy  meeting." 

Old  Herod  was  making  good  time  and  he  had  miles 
behind  him.  "May,  while  over  at  Derwenter,  visiting  Aunt 
Maria  Peyton,  she  gave  me  some  most  valuable  points  to  be 
practiced  when  one  gets  married.     She  told  me  a  husband 


204  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

must  be  studiously  observed  as  to  his  temper  and  habits,  so 
as  to  be  able  to  apply  the  necessary  measures  to  manage 
him." 

"Manage  your  husband,  Carrie?" 

"Yes,  it  is  the  ambition  of  my  life." 

"Would  it  not  be  best  to  leave  off  the  consideration  of 
government  concerning  husband  and  wife?" 

"If  you,  May,  would  leave  off  your  electionary  and  study 
more  the  moods  and  fancies  of  people  in  general,  and  men 
in  particular,  you  would  be  wiser,  if  not  so  spirituelle. 
Aunt  Maria  declared  that  a  wife  must  keep  his  mentality 
thrilled  by  an  apparent  eagerness  for  knowledge,  and  the 
physical  man  whetted  up  and  amused  at  times  by  a  sudden 
coyness;  in  a  word,  if  he  is  all  calm,  she  is  to  be  all  charm, 
all  whim.  Ah!  May,  take  my  word,  you  chickabiddy,  a 
little  well-played  petulancy  now  and  then  perplexes  the  man 
and  sets  him  to  thinking  what  he  has  done  to  bring  on  this 
perturbed  state  of  affairs.  Now,  this  perplexity  is  the 
quintessence,  the  very  spice  of  a  woman's  life.  Yes,  I 
think  it  is  best  to  put  forth  every  effort  to  keep  ourselves  in 
power — why  not? — that  Nature  has  given  us,  knowing  that 
we  are  'the  weaker  vessel.'  Aunt  Maria  said  most  seriously 
that  a  wife  must  be  fresh  and  crisp;  that  sameness  sooner 
or  later  would  be  the  interment  of  their  marital  contract. 
So  you  see,  May,  we  would  have  to  be  up  and  doing  to  make 
his  'summer  honey  breath'  hold  out." 

"Love,  as  I  understand,  Carrie,  is  divine;  it  is  the  God- 
given  elixir  of  our  earthly  existence." 

"Love  divine?  Yes,  when  it  is  mutually  reciprocated  by 
holy  beings.  Our  love  is  human,  and  by  admixture  has 
become  base  and  much  gross.  In  a  word,  at  best  it  is  but 
an  alloy." 

"What,  would  you  have  me  believe  that  the  impress  of 
Deity  upon  our  faces  and  features,  the  divine  spark,  the 
soul  touch  of  immortality,  can  become  tarnished,  lose  its 
beauty  and  purity  by  coming  in  contact  with  mundane 


The  Gypsy  Camp  205 

associations?  Nay,  Carrie,  I  tell  you  the  pearl  among  the 
pebbles,  that  which  was  given  pure,  will  return  to  the  Divine 
Giver  pure.  Carrie,  as  this  question  of  marriage  is  but  as 
a  fancy  with  some,  a  religion  with  others,  let's  drop  it  and 
take  up  our  objective  visitation.  Carrie,  sure  yonder  are 
the  camps  of  the  gypsies." 

"Suppose,  now,  May,  the  old  gypsy  queen  tells  me  an 
ugly,  bad  fortune,  I  know  I  shall  always  hate  myself  for 
allowing  you  to  entice  me  to  come  out  here,  for  you  know 
I  really  despise  the  rambling  rogues." 

"What!  Carrie—" 

"  Tis  no  time  for  laughing,  May  Montfort." 

Black  glossy-haired  women,  bareheaded  children,  for- 
eign-featured men,  were  seen  here  and  there,  and  their  tents 
with  faded  covers  added  novelty  to  the  scene. 

"May,  look!     There  is  an  old  ram  cozening  a  young 


ewe. 


"I  don't  suppose  the  old  sybil  here  will  be  in  a  cave  like 
the  Sybil  of  Cumae;  and,  Carrie,  if  she  asks  that  we  descend 
with  her  I  shall  refuse  flatly." 

"May,  hush!     Why  do  you  play  on  my  nerves  so?" 

"W'ell,  Carrie,  here  we  are.  You  were  dying  to  come, 
now  no  use  being  queasy.  I  had  rather  trust  my  fortune 
to  the  waters  of  good  old  St.  Kryne's  well  than  this  mouthy, 
motley  rabble." 

"Which  of  the  four  trees  would  you  hug  hardest  for  good 
luck — the  withy,  or  the  ash,  or — ?  Sh!"  A  girl  of  dreamy 
dark  eyes  commenced  singing,  jocundly,  clear,  and  sweet  as 
a  woodland  oriole: 

"There  runs  a  shoat  down  yonder  hill 
As  fast  as  e'er  he  can; 
And  as  he  runs  he  crieth  still, 
Come,  catch  me,  gypsy  man." 

"Carrie,  how  do  you  like  the  sentiment  of  the  song? 
Just  do  listen  at  that  chattering  jaybird;  he  has  the  crows 


206  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

charmed  with  his  saucy  antics.  See  those  children  handing 
him  swamp-sparrows  to  gorge  down.  Oh,  you  bluejay, 
you  nest  robber,  your  harsh  cry  fills  the  groves  and  woods 
with  alarm.  If  the  eagle  is  the  aristocrat  of  the  air,  if  the 
peacock  is  of  the  barnyard,  then  the  bluejay  is  of  the  green- 
wood tree.  How  human-like!  He  quarrels,  he  steals,  he 
murders,  wears  fine  clothes,  and  prides  himself  a  prince." 
"May,  are  you  going  crazy?  We  are  not  crow-keepers. 
Please  find  the  door  porter  to  this  fearsome  place.  I  wish 
we  were  away." 

A  few  of  the  men  were  watching  the  training  of  a  fine 
Dalmatian  dog.  The  older  women  were  bending  over  their 
cookeries,  and  onion,  meat  and  sauerkraut  odors  filled 
the  air. 

"May,  hurry;  call  some  man  of  the  place." 
"Carrie,  do  brace  up.  Do  take  on  a  more  heroic  mood." 
In  a  coppice  by  the  roadside,  oblivious  of  the  presence 
of  May  and  Carrie,  were  standing  two  gypsies,  a  man  and 
a  woman,  in  earnest  converse.  "Julio,  you  are  not  to  go." 
The  young  woman  seemed  to  be  bubbling  over  with  admira- 
tion for  her  older  companion.  Her  liquid  black  eyes 
looked  love.  His  face  looked  weary,  irresolute.  The  pic- 
nickers of  the  wood  are  free  from  world-worry,  for  what  is 
without  remedy  is  for  them  without  their  regard.  The  men 
are  all  lovers,  the  women  coquettes.  A  queen  rules  the 
camp  and  sets  the  pace.  The  men  wear  boots,  red  jackets, 
and  yellow  pants  to  the  knee.  They  wrestle,  horserace,  and 
play  quoits.  It  is  quite  noticeable  that  there  was  a  joyous 
disregard  of  the  many  proprieties  of  life. 

The  men  are  of  medium  height,  finely  formed.  The 
young  women  are  budding  brunette  beauties.  The  older 
women  have  a  don't-care  gaze  at  you,  and  were  patching 
and  mending  wearing  apparel.  There  are  three  kinds  of 
men  seen,  seemingly:  a  corps-de-grade,  a  select  bunch  of 
horsetraders  and  tricksters,  and,  lastly,  middle-aged  cun- 
ning men — the  poachers.     These  last  are  looked  to  to  get 


The  Gypsy  Camp  207 

meal  and  meat  for  the  camp.  These  men  wear  sage-green 
clothes,  and  are  considered  the  brains  of  the  body  politic. 
Bold  and  cautious,  their  going  and  coming  is  never  ques- 
tioned. "Smooth  runs  the  water  when  the  brook  is  deep." 
The  gypsy  camp  was  in  a  clump  of  trees  near  running  water. 
Their  belongings  were  stretched  up  and  down  the  creek  for 
a  half-mile.  When  the  queen  pitches  her  tent,  they  all 
settle  not  far  away. 

The  gypsy  is  peculiar,  of  unknown  origin.  Some  think 
he  and  the  Indians  are  component  parts  of  the  Lost  Tribes 
of  Israel.  He  thinks  a  woman  has  a  more  penetrating 
mind  than  a  man;  that  by  nature  she  is  more  shrewd  and 
less  scrupulous  than  man,  and  is  not,  as  he  is,  sidetracked 
by  petty  ambitions.  She  goes  to  the  point  ruthlessly,  in- 
sistently, and  is  quicker  to  awaken  to  game  or  danger. 
The  gypsy  is  governed  by  a  woman.  She  knows  she  never 
quarters  a  thought,  but  keeps  it  whole  until  the  object  is 
encompassed.  She  is  his  ideal  of  expediency,  and  is  gifted 
with  an  intuition  to  select  a  council  to  deliberate  with  her 
on  questions  of  vital  importance,  and  weigh  the  amount  of 
wisdom  needed  to  give  body  to  the  final  resolve.  She  is 
not  inactive,  although  fond  of  novelty;  she  is  changeable. 
A  natural  born  wanderer,  never  still,  never  satisfied.  Yet, 
with  all  these  deflections,  she  has  about  her  a  bewitchment 
utterly  irresistible  to  the  more  rugged  male.  Venus  and 
Mercury  are  their  mythological  gods.  Sunday  is  as  Mon- 
day, a  day  passing  to  be  enjoyed,  never  to  be  regretted. 

A  red-and-yellow  dressed  gypsy  was  in  calling  distance. 
"Here,  sir!  Can  you  direct  us  to  the  tent  of  Queen 
Mardinia?" 

"Does  the  fair  lady  come  to  see  our  Queen  to  have  her 
fortune  read?" 

"Yes.     Speak  to  her  for  us." 

The  man  was  not  tall,  but  trimly  made,  and  his  black, 
foxy  eyes  seemed  to  read  one  through  and  through  He 
gave  a  low,  mellow  whistle,  and  at  a  large  tent's  door,  near 


208  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

the  Queen's,  appeared  a  young  woman.  She  disappeared 
quickly  in  the  larger  tent. 

"May,  hadn't  you  better  drive  behind  some  of  these 
tents?  Passers-by  might  see  Old  Herod  and  know  him, 
and  make  unfavorable  comments." 

"No,  he  stands  here.  If  it  is  so  common  for  us  to  be 
here,  let's  be  gone  at  once." 

"Alack-a-day!  If  you  are  as  hasty  in  getting  married 
as  you  are  in  snapping  me  up,  I  wager  heavily  you'll  not 
be  an  old  maid." 

"This  way,  fair  ladies,  our  good  Queen." 

The  old  Queen  had  a  double  tent  with  a  walkway  be- 
tween. Three  green-covered  stools  were  placed  in  the 
passageway.  The  tent  was  rather  old,  of  red  and  yellow 
stripes,  pitched  beneath  a  wild  cornel.  In  front  of  the 
tent  were  her  dornock  curtains,  worn  and  unclean.  A  half 
dozen  dirty,  dark-skinned  gypsy  boys  came  and  stood  near 
them  and  asked  questions  boldly.  The  old  Queen  turned 
and  angrily  said,  "Begone!"  and  they  went  scurrying  away 
in  gleeful  grin. 

"These  people  are  not  Sybarites,"  May  musingly  con- 
sidered, "but  they  are  surely  Eutopians.  Their  social 
happiness  seems  to  them  to  be  complete,  and,  although  of  a 
roaming  species  of  human  citizenship,  they  could  not  be 
marked  down  as  vagaries,  for  they  have  fixed,  unwritten 
laws,  the  breaking  of  which  brands  the  offender  so  pos- 
sessed from  camp  and  council  forever  and  a  day.  Dis- 
cipline and  diplomacy  are  supposed  to  be  wanting  in 
these  people,  yet  they  manage  to  exist,  seldom  under  arrest, 
and  have  continuously  a  bon  homme  life." 

May  spoke :     "We  have  come — " 

"Come  for  what?  From  Orderness  to  Ettrick's  Forest  I 
passed  and  bade  Queen  Caroline  beware." 

"We  have  come,  Sybil  Queen,  to  ask  you  to  read  the 
fortune  of  this  young  lady,  and  I  will  cross  your  hand  with 
much  silver." 


The  Gypsy  Camp  209 

"Cross  my  hand?  I  see,  I  see  you  are  to  marry  a  stran- 
ger. You  will  live  near  deep  waters.  I  see  you  will  live 
a  long  life.  I  see,  I  see  you  will  mother  many  children, 
and  your  husband  will  have  lands  and  money.  I  see,  I 
see — I'm  done."  Mardinia  started  away,  and  Carrie,  re- 
assured by  the  good  fortune  promised  her,  rallied  from 
her  fears  and  asked  the  Queen,  "Stay,  Queen,  and  tell  my 
friend  her  fortune.     Here  is  gold." 

The  old  Queen  looked  May  full  in  the  face:  "What 
for  are  you  here?  You  hate  our  Romany.  Listen  and 
take  warning.  I  see  trouble  for  you,  blood  and  wars, 
heartaches  for  you.  Your  choice  will  sort  with  the  blood 
of  those  whose  bones  rest  in  St.  Denis,  safely  sepulchred. 
The  web  has  been  broken,  but  it  will  mend  again.  The 
beaches  will  not  be  mastless.  I  see  you  will  marry  the 
man  and  will  live  down  by  the  deep,  blue  sea.  I  see — 
I  see — hold  fast;  I'm  done."  She  turned  to  May,  ex- 
tended her  hand,  and  thus  addressed  her:  "All  women 
are  sisters.  Why,  then,  rail  on  the  downtrodden  gypsy? 
He  knows  life  at  its  worst  is  but  a  vain  shadow,  and  a 
hundred  years  is  but  as  a  watch  in  the  night.  Every  path 
leads  to  the  grave.  Listen:  the  gypsy  has  no  standing 
armies,  he  prefers  peace  and  pursues  it.  He  has  no  lordly 
monument  to  mark  his  last  resting  place,  his  dead  sleep 
beneath  the  evergreen  holly  tree.  If  he  makes  no  grain, 
neither  does  he  distill.  Who  ever  saw  a  drunken  gypsy? 
His  mode  of  life  needs  no  stimulant.  Like  unto  those  who 
strain  for  a  higher  trend  and  must  be  sustained  by  subtle 
accessories,  he  accepts  the  fruits  as  prepared  by  Nature. 
Romany's  children  pant  for  the  fresh  air  of  dewy  morn- 
ings; they  pass  their  lives  in  green  woods,  sleep  on  the 
grassy  heights,  and  drink  water  from  the  springs  of  the 
valley.     Who  was  Melchisedek,  tell  me?" 

The  old  Queen  wrapped  her  robe  about  her  thin,  sinewy 
body  and  walked  slowly  away,  and  was  last  seen  passing 
down  into  the  deep  shaded  woods. 

14 


210  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Carrie  was  one  of  those  kind  of  people  that  never  give  up 
an  idea  nor  cease  to  continue  an  argument,  apparently  full 
of  self-confidence,  and  certainly  full  of  curiosity.  She 
dreaded  for  it  to  be  known  that  she  had  purposely  visited 
the  gypsy  camp,  beside  the  darkly  shaded  pools  of  the 
winding  Quanky.  Having  implicit  confidence  in  May,  she 
felt  certain  that  she  would  never  willingly  make  it  known. 
Carrie  was  immensely  delighted  as  to  her  future  prospects 
as  foretold  by  the  old  gypsy  Queen.  She  believed  what 
was  prefigured  of  her,  but  strove  honestly  to  disbelieve 
what  was  presaged  to  May.  It  was  true  there  was  an 
innate  satisfaction  in  the  knowledge  that  her  prospects 
were  more  goodly  than  May's.  She  really  wished  May's 
future  had  not  been  so  interwoven  with  anxiety  and  trou- 
bles. Carrie  loved  May  sincerely,  but  she  loved  herself 
and  her  heart  desires  much  more  dearly  than  she  did  her 
friend's. 

"May,  we  are  antipodal  on  general  principles.  Accord- 
ing to  you,  all  men  are  rogues.  The  cunning  attorney 
reveals  to  the  greedy  guardian  the  silent  channels  of  gain; 
the  physician  sleeps  and  lets  his  patient  die;  Peter  stoutly 
denied  his  Master,  and  was  afterwards  made  a  Pope;  the 
wealthy  merchant  forgets  to  give  good  measure  to  the 
poverty-stricken  widow — but  lo!  when  the  gypsy  lags  in 
moral  duties,  the  pillory  for  him,  and  he  is  branded  as  an 
outcast." 

"Oh,  Carrie,  I  fear  you  too  willingly  misrepresent  the 
multitudinous  callings  of  men.  The  fiat  went  forth  from 
Deity  that  'six  days  shalt  thou  labor.'  I  admit  the  gypsies 
seem  to  be  controlled  by  a  mystic,  mysterious  power  that  is 
unaccountable.  If  one  of  their  offspring  is  taken,  I  am 
told,  in  babyhood  and  carefully  reared  by  Christian  people, 
as  age  comes  on  the  child  becomes  restless  under  the 
restraint  of  civilization,  and  will  away  to  the  wildwood.  It 
is  said  they  were  made  wanderers  because  they  refused  to 
administer  to  the  necessities  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  but  not 


The  Gypsy  Camp  211 

vagabonds.  If  Peter,  the  impulsive,  did  deny,  he  also 
wept  and  died  on  the  cross  for  his  Lord ;  and  lawyers  have 
always  stood  for  freedom;  the  healing  art — storm  and  sun- 
shine— have  been  always  as  angels  of  mercy.  Point  to  me 
an  almshouse  or  a  college  built  by  a  gypsy.  Tell  me  when 
a  country  needs  men  for  defense,  that  you  see  a  gypsy 
armored." 

"I  tell  you,  May  Montfort,  if  the  gypsy  is  no  ploughman, 
if  he  is  a  rover,  he  bows  to  the  rising  of  the  sun  and  smiles, 
'All  hail  to  the  shades  of  night!'  If  he  bakes  his  beans 
and  wears  buckram  for  a  covering,  if  he  leads  no  armies 
nor  keeps  a  ledger  to  accurate  his  profits  and  loss,  he  is 
the  living  example  of  taking  life  easy,  showing,  evidencing 
to  the  world  the  needlessness  of  a  madhouse.  Who  ever 
saw  a  lunatic  gypsy?  Who  ever  owned  a  gypsy  slave? 
He  leads  a  normal  existence,  his  life  is  a  romance.  If  he 
is  no  potentate,  he  is  no  beggar  at  your  heels,  and  his  skill 
in  divination  has  been  the  amusement  of  royalty.  He  is 
no  underworld  sweater.  He  is  a  child  of  the  green  wood; 
he  eats,  sleeps  and  wakes  with  Nature.  His  wants  are 
few,  and  he  feels  that  that  much  is  due  him — it  is  God- 
given.  Did  Abraham  and  Jacob  follow  the  town  bell?  The 
gypsy  had  his  religion,  but  no  bead  roll.  He  prays  beside 
the  silent  streams,  he  sings  with  the  forest  songster,  his 
conscience  is  his  king,  the  world  his  playground,  and  cul- 
tured mankind  his  persecutors.  He  builds  no  jails;  they 
are  only  filled  with  the  wails  of  woe  of  the  friendless. 
He  passes  through  the  world  as  a  stranger  and  an  outcast, 
having  no  friends,  no  home,  and  no  country." 

"Now,  Carrie,  good!  Let  me  admire  your  enthusiasm,  if 
my  judgment  opposes  your  logic.  You  are  welcome  to 
your  knight  of  the  black  roan.  His  dreamy  fancies,  his 
romantic  ecstacies,  his  castle  of  Spain  unfits  him  to  be  in- 
terested in  sordid  facts.  Don't  worry,  dear,  to  think  of 
his  beans  seasoned  with  somebody's  fat  pig.  I  can  see  no 
beauties  in  bands  of  roving  vagabonds.     For  me,  the  old 


212  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

ship  of  state.  Give  me  the  church  bell  that  called  my 
parents  to  song  and  prayer,  the  sweet-sounding  old  dinner 
horn  calling  the  laborers  from  the  fields  to  a  table  of 
plenty  and  to  spare;  and,  dearer  than  heart  can  tell,  the 
old  mansion  house  where  my  fathers  planned  and  played, 
married  and  loved,  died  and  were  buried.  And  we  are 
here  to  take  our  stand,  do  our  part.  There  swings  the  old 
oaken  bucket,  there  stands  my  mother's  flowering  pome- 
granate. Education,  Carrie,  is  the  guide-star;  good  citi- 
zenship is  the  bedrock  upon  which  is  founded  the  destinies 
of  the  human  race,  and  the  cultured  mind  holds  in  hand  the 
Scriptures,  the  rectory  of  civilization.  I  tell  you,  Carrie, 
the  lands  would  become  a  waste,  the  sea  would  be  without 
ships,  if  the  gypsy  man  reigned  and  reigned  supremely." 

"I  was  not  aware,  May,  that  the  Colony  of  Carolina  was 
reputed  to  be  over-careful  of  its  citizenship.  Did  you 
ever  read  the  Westover  Manuscripts?  Colonel  Byrd  lucidly 
tells  how  the  runaways  from  our  Colony  found  a  welcome 
'over  the  line,'  and  rested  in  peace  and  security  in  your 
dense  thickets  and  upon  the  banks  of  your  crooked  creeks. 
I  am  certainly  pleased  to  hear  that  there  is  an  awakening 
to  propriety  if  not  necessity  of  scanning  more  closely 
would-be  settlers." 

"It  is  so  refreshing,  Carrie,  to  hear  you  berate  my  people 
for  harboring  your  runaways.  If  we  allow  breathing  space 
to  them,  the  fact  remains  that  they  were  born  and  bred 
Virginians.  If  an  enemy's  dog  comes  for  shelter  in  a 
storm  he  is  not  driven  away.  And,  Carrie  dear,  did  you 
never  see  a  crow  trooping  with  pigeons?  It  remains  a 
fact  that  he  is  a  roguish  crow,  and  is  treated  as  such  by  the 
gentler  company." 

"I  see  nothing  to  laugh  at,  May.  I  take  it,  you  are  not 
so  witty." 

"I  just  can't  help  it,  Carrie.  Fair  child  of  Eve,  forgive 
me  for  acting  ugly." 

"May,  if  I  didn't  love  you  so  unreasonably,  I  would  be- 


The  Gypsy  Camp  213 

come  so  incensed  that  I  would  break  with  you,  for  you  do 
make  at  times  such  particular  demands  upon  my  sense  of 
decorum;  but  let  it  pass;  let's  back  to  the  gypsies.  These 
people  appeal  to  my  very  soul.  They  may  be  outcasts.  I 
know  their  lives,  like  their  vehicles,  are  disorderly;  but,  so 
help  me,  I  have  an  almost  overpowering  desire  to  become 
one  of  them.  I  want  to  sit  by  their  fires,  listen  to  the 
romance  of  crag  and  castle  heard  only  in  their  songs;  sing 
in  the  hush  of  the  evening  time,  in  the  early  seductive 
hours  of  twilight,  under  the  old  birchen  tree,  where  the 
fire  outdoors  burns  merrily.  Oh,  May,  did  you  notice 
those  fish  brought  in  by  those  snappy  young  fellows?  One 
had  all  perch  and  pikes,  the  other  chubs  and  catfish." 

"Yes,  and  did  you  notice  those  two  old  men  come  in  so 
shyly?     Each  had  a  bag,  and  on  each  bag  was  blood." 

"It  is  past  all  strangeness  to  me  that  you  find  your  eyes 
on  suspicious  and  evil  intents,  May." 

"Those  two  men,  Carrie,  had  a  tired  look.  I  have  heard 
that  gypsies  go  miles  away  from  camp  to  borrow  a  fat  lamb, 
or  lift  a  strong  heifer." 

"The  old  Queen's  prophecy.  What's  your  tongue,  May, 
against  one  and  all  of  the  children  of  Romany?  May, 
listen :  when  we  get  back  tell  we  went  to  visit  friends.  My 
dear,  I  fear  your  telltale  face.  You  have  not  learned  to 
hide  a  frown  in  a  smile.  I  will  be  so  glad,  May,  if  you 
will  go  to  your  room  at  once,  and  I  will  report  you  as  hav- 
ing an  annoying  headache.     May,  do  you  hear?" 

May  Montfort  was  paying  no  attention  to  Carrie's  querel- 
ous  remarks.  Her  thoughts  were  on  Jean  Colmey.  She 
asked  herself,  "Why  does  he  avoid  me?" 

"May,  what  are  you  thinking  about?  By  your  looks 
your  thoughts  must  be  as  black  as  a  vespers  pageant." 

Tom  Boiling  met  them  at  the  gate.  "Good  morning; 
let  me  assist  you.     The  bay  blows." 

"Yes,  Cousin  Tom,  you  know  Herod  is  getting  old,  and 
May  speeded  him  just  a  little  the  last  mile." 


214  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"I  reckon  you  had  a  pleasant  outing.  I  have  bantered 
Mr.  Colmey  for  a  canter,  but  he  pleaded  business." 

Jean  Colmey  was  on  the  porch,  but  when  he  saw  them 
coming  he  disappeared.  Upstairs  in  their  room  Carrie 
naively  remarked,  "Wouldn't  you  have  thought,  May,  that 
misogamist  would  have  come  and  helped  for  sweet  de- 
cency's sake?" 

"If  you  mean  Mr.  Colmey,  if  it  is  his  preference  to 
remain  away,  I  do  not  see  why  we  should  care." 

"Oh,  no  one  cares,  I  am  sure!  no,  indeed,  he  is  but  a 
lozel  fellow  of  no  mark." 

It  was  a  heart-hurt  to  May;  it  was  a  secret  pleasure  to 
Carrie,  for  she  suspected  his  secret.  May  asked  herself, 
"Did  the  old  gypsy  make  a  mistake?  Is  my  love  to  be 
buried  in  a  grave  of  sorrow?"  A  stillness  settled  on  her 
face. 

"May,  are  you  ready?  It  is  high  time  we  were  showing 
our  shapes  in  the  parlor.  Now,  here,  girl,  brighten  up, 
brighten  up;  you  seem  to  be  out  of  harmony  with  your 
surroundings";  and  she  bent  a  searching  look  on  May's 
immobile  face.  "Come,  May,  our  hostess  will  expect  us  to 
look  our  best,  as  she  has  much  company." 

There  in  the  parlor  they  stood.  May  was  like  a  moss 
rose  of  blush  color  and  perfect  form.  Her  dress  of  silk 
was  of  an  apple-leaf  green,  and  Alencon  lace,  with  V- 
shaped  neck,  and  fell  about  her  well-proportioned  person 
gracefully.  A  necklace  of  whole  pearls  with  emerald 
center  gave  additional  charm  to  her  classic  full-long  neck. 
On  her  left  hand  she  wore  a  finger  ring  of  gold  and  pearls. 
Her  small  ear-rings  were  gold  and  emeralds.  An  engraved 
bracelet  of  medium  size  encircled  her  left  arm.  Her  green 
satin  slippers  had  each  a  butterfly  bow  of  enameled  gold  of 
buckle  shape,  which  added  seemly  beauty  to  utility.  May's 
soft,  golden  hair  was  the  praise  of  her  friends,  and  a  comb 
of  gold  and  pearls  for  back  hair  completed  her  enrich- 
ment.    Her  forehead,  low  and  broad,  and  her  eyebrows 


The  Gypsy  Camp  215 

well  defined  and  semicircled.  May  felt  fast-sure  of  her 
position,  as  all  women  do  who  are  beauteous  and  bright; 
and  relying  on  her  tactfulness,  she  modestly  surveyed  her 
surroundings  and  deftly  played  the  amiable  to  her  many 
warm  admirers. 

Carrie  outmeasured  May  in  height,  yet  when  they  walked 
May  seemed  the  taller.  Carrie's  neck  was  short  and  well 
rounded,  her  nose  was  slightly  retrousse;  May's  strictly 
Grecian.  Carrie  was  all  piquancy;  May  was  all  recep- 
tivity. Carrie  Culpepper  was  a  woman  to  attract  the 
notice  of  men.  She  was  permissibly  compared  to  the 
night-blooming  cereus.  Her  creamy  cheek  was  flushed, 
and  her  hair  of  black  silk  was  done  up  elaborately.  For 
a  moment  she  claimed  your  sensuous  preference.  Carrie 
was  richly  attired.  Her  dress  was  of  old  gold  satin,  with 
gold  embroidered  lace,  square-cut.  Her  slippers  of  white 
silk,  silk  lined.  Her  adornment  of  jewels  was  of  her  birth- 
stone — amethyst  and  gold.  Her  necklace  was  of  fine  gold 
wrought,  and  a  precious  pendant  of  amethyst.  Her  hair, 
wavy  and  fascinating,  was  ornamented  with  a  rich  shell 
comb  with  rounded  gold  points ;  her  barette  was  like  May's, 
a  plain  gold  bar.  Her  well-moulded  arms  wore  each  a 
heavy  bracelet  of  gold  with  bangles.  Both  hands  were 
well  ringed,  and  her  midnight  eyes  looking  from  under  her 
high  veiled  lids  were  piercing  and  commanding.  Carrie's 
voice  was  well  trained,  and  most  of  the  time  it  was  persua- 
sive; yet,  the  least  combated,  it  was  assertive,  showing  she 
did  not  brook  opposition  with  patience. 

There  is  always  a  latent  rivalry  existing  between  women, 
even  the  best  of  friends.  Carrie  felt  that  she  must  make 
an  effort  to  hold  her  own,  whenever  May  was  present,  and 
the  knowledge  made  her,  for  she  was  feminine  and  fond  of 
power,  earnestly  consider. 

Seeing  May  standing  calm,  selfpossessed,  encircled  by 
many  admirers,  accepting  homage,  Carrie  felt  tiffed,  and 
it  was  with  difficulty  she  could  control  her  feelings.     May 


216  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Montfort  was  a  Persian  peach,  white,  red,  and  luscious; 
Carrie  Culpepper  was  like  a  Flemish  beauty  pear — rare, 
ripe  and  mellow.  May  was  an  unclouded  spring  morn- 
ing; Carrie  was  like  the  summer  night  stars  in  resplendency 
shining.     One  was  beautiful,  the  other  was  grand! 

Carrie  Culpepper  stood  like  a  Stanley  crane,  graceful, 
handsome,  when  still;  May  Montfort  more  like  a  royal 
Australian  swan,  handsomest  upon  the  rippling  waves  in 
motion.  Carrie's  bouquet  was  of  orchids,  May's  bouquet 
was  of  white  roses.  Oh,  woman,  what  a  mystery,  meta- 
phoric — half  human,  half  divine — what  evocative  power 
by  her  possessed!  Denominated  a  shadow  of  substance, 
yet  what  mysterious  power  she  wields  for  weal  or  woe. 
At  her  knee  the  child  learns  to  link  the  past  with  the 
present,  and  look  bravely  to  the  future.  From  her  look, 
tragedies  or  charities  follow,  and  her  tears  or  her  smiles 
arm  man  for  war  or  make  him  sit  satisfied  in  the  parlors 
of  peace.  Oh,  woman!  Coy,  capricious  creature,  whether 
in  ferny  dell  or  on  field  of  battle ;  whether  on  palace  couch 
luxurious  or  the  stormy  deep,  man's  last-first  thought  is  of 
the  woman  he  loves. 

Is  this  "afterthought"  of  Jehovah  but  a  human  barometer, 
either  to  adorn  and  record  masculine  puissant  eminence, 
or  to  regretfully  register  his  moral  and  mental  decadence? 
Does  woman  ascend  or  descend  the  scale  of  excellency  as 
man's  whims  demand  of  her? — failure  to  be  an  initiative — 
want  of  rugged  adherence  to  right  and  human  progress 
forces  her  to  rely  upon  natural  incentive  to  action,  man; 
and  sooner  or  later  she  awakens  to  a  sense  of  her  depend- 
ency. Is  there  no  God  to  direct?  What  meant  Diety 
when  He  declared  she  was  to  be  a  helpmeet?  She  can 
never  be  man's  equal;  no.  She  must  be  his  superior  in 
the  Odic  subtle  force  of  life,  to  help  carry  out  man's  pros- 
pective plans.  She  becomes  his  inferior  when  she  enters 
the  arena  to  compete  for  positions  and  properties.  As 
his  helpmeet,  woman  is  a  necessity,  as  the  mother  of  his 
offspring,  she  becomes  holy. 


XXXIV 

THE  ORDER  OF  THE  ROYAL  CEDAR 

"Sir,  we  are  gentlemen, 
That  within  our  hearts  nor  outward  eyes, 
Envy  the  great,  nor  do  the  low  despise." 

— Pericles. 

Colmey  Place  was  full  of  gayety;  all  hearts  happy  and 
expectant.  How  glorious  is  youth!  Now  no  deep-lined 
creases  upon  the  brow.  Great  anticipation  fills  the  souls 
of  the  young  people.  Every  day  is  hoped  to  bring  newer 
joys,  greater  revelations.  The  high  spirits  of  budding 
manhood  demanded  jousts,  trials  of  strength,  comparisons 
of  agility. 

Young  womanhood,  so  apparently  passive,  with  keen  eye 
and  measuring  judgment,  is  actively  alive  to  the  fact  that  a 
future  companion  is  one  of  the  all-requiring  demands  that 
their  nature  desires  to  find  and  secure.  There  is  a  panting 
desire  for  power  and  pleasure  running  riotously  through 
the  veins  of  the  young,  in  whom  hope  is  so  predominant. 
Success,  premiership  is  to  be  their  final  reward. 

Persia  presents  her  Laws,  Egypt  her  Needle,  Greece  her 
Pantheon,  Judea  her  rock-ribbed  Moriah,  Rome  her  Seven 
Hills,  and  England  her  Westminster  Abbey,  all  asking 
eternal  remembrance.  It  is  a  heart-call  for  praise,  im- 
mediate, the  Celtic  bard  sang  to  the  accompaniment  of  his 
harp  the  heroic  deeds  of  prince  and  chief,  fanning  the 
flame  in  the  young  to  "go  and  do,  that  songs  may  be  sung 
of  you." 

Countries  and  states,  empires  and  principalities,  must 
take  up  the  multiple  burdens  and  demands  of  the  ever 
growing  public  wants,  and  that  commonwealth,  that  king- 

217 


218  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

dom,  failing  to  fight  for  supremacy,  will  ignobly,  surely, 
gradually,  pass  into  nonentity.  Twenty  thousand  hardy 
warriors  landed  at  Hastings.  There  Norman  and  Saxon 
strove  unto  death;  they  founded  the  House  of  Lords,  they 
founded  Imperial  England!  Harold  was  dead,  William 
enthroned. 

In  the  parlor  when  a  moment  of  silence  came,  May 
stepped  out  into  the  middle  of  the  floor  and  asked  audience. 

May  Montfort  was  a  woman  of  resource.  She  knew  that 
Mrs.  Colmey  expected  her  to  assist  in  amusing  the  guests. 
After  thinking  it  over,  she  determined  upon  a  knighthood 
sensation.  May  had  a  way  of  loftiness  of  look  and  car- 
riage, free  from  offense.  Courtesying,  she  said:  "Ladies 
and  gentlemen,  hear  me  for  my  cause.  I  come  not  to  bury, 
but  to  make  alive  the  Knighthood  of  the  Royal  Cedar." 
She  was  standing  in  the  center  of  the  parlor,  the  lights  were 
burning  brightly,  and  all  felt  giddy  and  gay.  "Come, 
Carrie,  as  we  must  have  something  to  do,  help  me  to  insti- 
tute the  Order  of  the  Knighthood  of  the  Royal  Cedar." 

May  Montfort,  when  she  so  willed,  was  of  a  command- 
ing nature,  and  was  always  easily  hearkened  to,  and  one 
felt  she  was  a  power  at  rest. 

"Boswell,  advise  my  friends,  and  please  give  attention. 
It  is  hereby  ordained  that  there  shall  be  two  degrees  of  the 
Royal  Cedar,  seniors  and  juniors.  All  offices  shall  be 
filled  by  seniors.  The  uniform  must  be  dark-green  cloth, 
short  double-breasted  frock  coat,  and  pantaloons;  hat  of 
chief  is  to  have  a  green  feather,  cassocks  of  all  members  to 
be  red,  belts  russet  and  wide,  hats  and  knee  boots  and  gaunt- 
lets of  russet,  and  short  sword  with  green  tassels  and  leather 
holdings  of  green.  Capes  of  three-quarters  circle  of  dark 
green  may  be  worn  when  on  duty,  russet  lining.  A  camp 
can  be  had  of  five  men  and  to  be  held  under  a  cedar  tree. 
The  object  is  to  cultivate  a  close  brotherhood,  to  foster  a 
greater  love  of  our  State  and  its  history,  to  willingly  hasten 


Order  of  the  Royal  Cedar  219 

to  the  protection  of  the  weak,  especially  of  women.  Eng- 
land has  her  St.  George  and  Royal  Garter  Order,  Scotland 
her  St.  Andrew  and  Golden  Thistle,  and  North  Carolina 
her  St.  Benedict  and  her  Royal  Cedar.  A  lady's  slipper 
on  a  cedar  bough  with  berries  is  to  be  the  badge,  and  the 
banneret  is  to  be  of  the  colors  of  green,  red,  and  green 
(a  saltier).  There  are  two  degrees,  red  and  green.  All 
brass  buttons  must  have  the  badge  thereon.  'A  La  Bonne 
Heure'  is  to  be  the  motto.     Do  I  hear  any  objections?" 

"I  hereby  offer  a  motion  that  only  native  born  white 
males  of  North  Carolina  from  19  to  41  shall  be  active 
members;  all  ages  can  be  honorary;  that  no  atheist,  no 
mixed-blood,  no  criminal,  drunkard,  no  deformed  shall  be 
eligible;  that  at  all  times  and  all  occasions,  at  every  oppor- 
tunity, the  vital  interests  of  North  Carolina  shall  be  per- 
sistently advocated  and  firmly  stood  for;  that  the  talis- 
manic  word  shall  be  fondly  cherished,  supremely.  All 
camps  to  be  opened  with  prayer  and  shall  be  ruled  by  the 
chief.  That  at  the  City  of  Raleigh,  N.  C,  shall  be  held 
annually  the  State  Encampment.  If  not,  they  stand  ap- 
proved." 

There  was  much  clapping  of  hands  and  a  subdued, 
"Hurrah  for  the  Order  of  the  Royal  Cedar!" 

"0  May,  where  did  you  get  the  idea?" 

"May,  come  this  way,  please.  What  do  you  mean  by 
masquerading  like  you  do?  You  so  surprise  me,  acting  as 
you  have  this  evening.  Cedars  remind  me  of  a  cemetery, 
and  a  slipper  I  dislike  as  a  venomous  red  spider.  It  is  a 
symbol  of  woman's  dependency." 

"Carrie,  it  is  well  to  think  of  death,  we  must  meet  it;  and 
as  to  the  slipper,  a  symbol  of  weakness?  Really,  our 
weakness  is  our  strength.  Dear,  don't  worry.  Nature 
sooner  or  later  rightens  everything,  so  now  for  a  song. 
What's  your  preference,  Carrie?" 

"Let  us,  May,  have  more  sense  and  less  song." 

"Carrie,  try  to  be  good  and  helpful.     Now  listen." 


220  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  we  have  established  the  Order 
of  the  Royal  Cedar,  and  now  we  will  make  a  knight."  May 
had  resolved  to  indicate  to  Colmey  her  esteem  and  con- 
fidence. 

"As  Mr.  Colmey  has  publicly  professed  that  he  would 
be  pleased  to  be  a  member  of  the  Order,  so  now,  sir,  kneel 
and  solemnly  pledge  that  'I  will  cultivate  under  all  circum- 
stances courage  and  fortitude,  and  that  I  will  fear  God  and 
serve  the  State,  love  the  brotherhood,  and  be  willing  and 
ready  to  assist  and  defend  the  defenseless — especially 
womanhood.'  Answer,  'I  do  so  promise  same,  upon  my 
most  sacred  honor.'  " 

She  turned  to  one  side,  slipped  off  her  green  slipper,  and 
said,  "Know  ye,  Jean  Colmey,  and  all  present,  that  you  are 
hereby  made  a  knight  of  the  Order  of  the  Royal  Cedar." 
She  gave  three  taps  on  his  left  shoulder  with  the  slipper 
and  said,  "Arise,  Sir  Knight,  empowered  to  go  forth  in  the 
defense  of  the  right." 

May  at  once  went  up  the  stairs  to  her  room  to  adjust  her 
footwear.  The  evening  was  spent  merrily,  and  the  next  to 
be  knighted  was  the  theme  conjectural.  The  next  morning 
as  May  entered  the  parlor  Colmey  advanced  to  meet  her, 
and  in  a  voice  rather  excited  said,  "Miss  Montfort,  I  feel 
compelled  to  speak  to  you.  I — "  May  quickly  walked 
out  of  the  room  as  Carrie  Culpepper  entered.  The  gift  of 
penetration  had  been  largely  given  to  Carrie.  May's  rapid 
retreat  and  Colmey's  flushed  face  caused  her  to  ask  herself: 
"What  does  this  mean?  May  is  afflicted  with  a  dubitative 
disposition.  I  suspect  a  declaration  of  love — that  would 
be  disastrous  to  my  plans." 

"Ah,  Mr.  Thompson,  I  am  glad  to  take  a  turn  with  you 
on  the  portico,  and  for  you  to  tell  me  what  you  think  of  the 
new  order  that  was  instituted  last  night  with  much  cere- 
mony. I  reckon  you  will  be  an  early  applicant  for  ad- 
mission— a  follower  of  the  green  and  red  banneret — you 
being  an  ardent  North  Carolinian." 


Order  of  the  Royal  Cedar  221 

"Well,  Miss  Carrie,  it  is  a  tree  North  Carolinians  ar- 
dently admire  for  its  royal  appearance,  its  scented  fibre; 
and  for  beauty  of  wood  and  for  durability  of  texture,  no 
tree  surpasses  the  cedar;  and  from  the  Balsam  Mountains 
to  the  green-blue  waves  of  the  salty  sea  it  is  deeply  enrooted 
in  the  soil  and  the  affection  of  the  people  of  North 
Carolina." 

"The  Cedar, 
Whose  arms  gave  shelter  to  the  princely  eagle, 
Under  whose  shade  the  ramping  lion  slept." 


XXXV 


SWORD  TOURNEY 

"But  now,  how,  my  love — why  is  your  cheek  so  pale? 
The  course  of  true  love  ne'er  did  run  smooth." 

Colmey,  disgusted  with  himself,  hating  life,  wondering 
why  he  was  born,  had  been  with  his  uncle  and  aunt  and 
told  them  of  his  going  home  in  the  early  morning.  He 
had  retired  at  nine  o'clock  and  had  given  orders  to  Remo. 
Rolling  from  side  to  side  on  his  bed,  his  last  thoughts  had 
been  of  May  and  Tom  Boiling.  Coming  down  to  break- 
fast, he  was  pale  and  dejected.  To  him  life  was  not  worth 
living.  Carrie,  with  her  face  smooth  and  placid,  said  to 
May  under  her  breath:  "May,  Mr.  Colmey  looks  like  he 
has  his  hackles  up.  I  do  verily  believe  he  is  scared,  and 
is  preparing  to  run  off  for  fear  of  Mr.  Burton." 

"Well,  Carrie,  don't  worry,  your  Cousin  Tom  is  here. 
He  can  meet  and  measure  swords  with  Mr.  Burton,  can't 
he?" 

"Yes,  but  to  tell  the  truth,  I  don't  believe  Tom  knows 
much  about  this  fencing  business,  and  there's  danger  in  it." 

"Well,  Carrie,  somebody  must  meet  Henry  Burton,  and 
my  judgment  is,  a  live  man  had  best  be  selected  to  stand 
before  him,  for  he  is  brave  and  strong." 

"What  does  the  fool  mean,  May?  What  does  he  want 
to  do,  anyhow?" 

Boiling  came  up  smiling  and  said,  "We  are  to  have  some 
sword  sparring,  Cousin,  and  it  will  be  interesting." 

"Cousin  Tom,  who  is  to  meet  Mr.  Burton?  You  ought 
not  to  be  the  man." 

"I  offered  to  meet  him,  but  Rutledge  and  the  others 

222 


Sword  Tourney  223 

thought  the  best  man  we  had  was  Mr.  Colmey.     We  all 
think  Mr.  Colmey  is  what  we  need." 

"Does  Mr.  Colmey  know  of  this,  Cousin  Tom?" 

"No.  He  has,  I  hear,  made  preparations  to  return  home 
today.     This  accident  will  annoy  him." 

"Accident,  bosh!  He  will  be  scared  to  death  over  it; 
he  certainly  will  when  he  is  approached." 

"Cousin,  you  pain  me  to  speak  so  lightly  of  a  gentleman 
whom  I  hold  in  high  esteem." 

"How  will  Mr.  Rutledge  do,  Cousin  Tom?  He  is  pow- 
erfully made." 

"Mr.  Rutledge  is  a  gentleman  and  a  fine  fellow,  but  the 
truth  is  just  here:  men  cast  aside  differences  when  they 
meet  a  hard  proposition.  The  pinch  makes  us  turn  to  Mr. 
Colmey." 

"Carrie,  why  bother  and  palaver  over  Mr.  Colmey? 
There  is  Mr.  Thompson,  an  all  around  man;  why  not  ask 
him  to  cross  swords  with  Mr.  Burton?" 

"May,  are  you  crazy?  When  did  Frank  learn  how  to  do 
fencing?  The  whole  thing  is  a  mess — speak  low,  Squire 
Colmey  might  hear — and  let  fortune  favor  the  brave." 

May  sat  with  a  white  face  She  knew  all  this  trouble 
was  about  her.  Burton  was  jealous  and  enraged,  and, 
mad-bull-like,  he  wanted  to  gore  some  one.  Down  in  her 
heart  she  was  glad  for  Colmey  to  meet  Burton.  She  had 
pinned  her  faith  on  Colmey,  and  her  humble  prayer  went 
up  for  the  knightly  fellow  from  the  east.  Burton  was 
handsome,  rich  and  bigoted,  as  she  looked  at  it — wanted  all 
his  way.  "Now  as  to  Mr.  Boiling,  he  is  most  excellent 
and  he  wears  well.  But,  tush!  he  is  no  match  for  Henry 
Burton,  and  Carrie  secretly  admires  Mr.  Burton  for  his 
strength,  agility,  and  riches;  but  she  is  fast  bound  to  Frank 
Thompson.  Because  Mr.  Burton  can  lift  aside  a  gig  as  he 
would  a  parasol,  leap  over  a  fence  like  jumping  a  rope,  that 
don't  make  him  master  in  everything.     No!     We   shall 


see." 


Henry  Burton  at  Princeton  excelled  in  sword  exercises, 


224  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

and  all  stood  attention  to  Burton.  Then  he  had  confidence 
in  himself,  and  that  is  a  valuable  asset  in  the  make-up  of 
a  man. 

Rutledge,  being  deputized  to  see  Colmey,  went  to  his 
room  to  talk  it  over 

"Rutledge,  I  have  started  for  home;  have  made  arrange- 
ments for  going  this  morning;  have  bid  my  uncle  and  aunt 
a  partial  adieu." 

"Well,  Jean,  it  is  up  to  you,  old  boy.  I  have  delivered 
the  message." 

"Why  not  Boiling?  Burton  means  Boiling — he  is  not 
after  me." 

"Am  I  to  tell  them  you  decline  to  meet  Burton?  What 
am  I  to  do?" 

"Damn  the  whole  business!  Rutledge,  pardon  me.  You 
go  and  tell  them  I  will  meet  the  devil  himself  if  my  friends 
say  meet  him." 

"Jean,  I  am  with  you,  and  my  opinion  is  that  you  are  the 
man  to  meet  Burton." 

Rutledge  went  to  the  library  and  told  those  in  waiting — 
Carrie  and  May  were  present — the  result  of  his  conference 
with  Colmey.  "Mr.  Colmey  begged  hard  to  be  excused 
("May,  don't  you  know  I  told  you  so?"),  that  he  was  to  go 
for  home  today,  that  matters  of  importance  had  arisen  de- 
manding his  presence;  but  if  you  gentlemen  required  of 
him  to  meet  the  Old  Boy  himself,  he  would  place  his  all  to 
please  his  friends."  All  clapped  their  hands,  and  Boiling 
called  out,  "Hats  off  to  Mr.  Colmey." 

Mr.  Martin  placed  the  challenge,  to  wit:  "For  the 
entertainment  of  the  ladies  of  Colmey  Place,  I,  Henry 
Burton,  respectfully  ask  a  friendly  bout  with  any  gentle- 
man— dress-swords  preferred." 

Ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  was  the  time  set,  the  place 
was  underneath  the  widespreading  boughs  of  the  old 
Spanish  tree  in  the  midst  of  Colmey  Grove. 

Colmey's  aunt  was  badly  shaken  up,  his  uncle  imper- 
turbable, when  told  of  the  coming  bout.     Burton  meant  to 


Sword  Tourney  225 

force  Boiling  to  show  his  mettle.  He  was  intensely  jealous 
of  the  dark,  stately  Virginian.  When  he  found  out  that 
the  men  of  the  house  had  decided  to  put  Colmey  on,  Burton 
wished  the  affair  could  be  dropped.  Toward  Colmey  he 
had  the  most  kindly  feeling,  and  Burton  recoiled  from 
meeting  with  the  Squire's  nephew.  Their  families  had 
always  been  on  terms  of  amity  and  sympathy,  and  he  dis- 
liked to  do  anything  that  might  offend  his  old  friend,  the 
Squire. 

"Here,  Jean;  Mr.  Martin  and  Mr.  Rutledge  have  called 
on  me,  and  asked  permission  of  me  for  the  meet  between 
you  and  Henry  Burton.     Give  me  your  interpretation." 

"Well,  Uncle,  what  was  I  to  do?  I  saw  no  way  out  of 
it;  the  whole  thing  is  this:  Burton  is  after  Tom  Boiling." 

"Yes,  I  understand.  Jean,  I  hear  he  is  a  smart  fencer, 
and  well  trained  with  short  swords.  He  is  heavier  than 
you,  and  my  advice  is,  worry  him,  parry,  and  then  pink 
him." 

At  the  appointed  hour  the  principals  were  at  their  places. 
Burton  in  white  shirt,  black  pants,  black  belt,  and  short 
boots;  Colmey,  in  white  shirt  and  pants,  buff  belt  and  boots; 
both  hatless.  Martin  and  Rutledge  had  the  swords.  They 
were  looking  carefully  after  the  interest  of  their  respective 
friends. 

Sue  Jones  and  Grace  Norneet  had  ridden  over  to  see  the 
ladies  and  were  present  at  the  sword  tourney.  Carrie  went 
over  to  greet  Miss  Jones  and  Miss  Norfleet,  and,  ever  full 
of  curiosity,  she  was  anxious  to  know  their  feelings  toward 
the  pitted  swordsmen.  Carrie  somehow  had  gotten  it  into 
her  head  that  Colmey  was  more  to  be  dreaded  with  May 
Montfort  than  any  one  else,  and  she  could  not  refrain  from 
wishing  him  bad  luck,  for  that  particular  reason.  "I  am 
so  glad  you  both  came  over  so  opportunely  to  look  on  a 
piece  of  semi-barbarity,  to  me." 

"Miss  Culpepper,  I  must  confess  I  am  greatly  interested. 
It  is  an  accomplishment  that  develops  gracefulness  and 

15 


226  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

activity.  I  think  it  is  so  manly  to  be  able  to  fence  and 
fight  your  man  to  a  finish." 

"Miss  Jones,  you  are  enthusiastic.  Well,  anyhow,  as  we 
three  are  here  alone,  my  heart  is  with  the  Halifax  knight." 

"And  mine  with  the  knight  of  Colmey."  Carrie  looked 
surprised  and  disappointed. 

The  principals  were  placed  and  "saluted."  Their 
swords  were  handed  to  them,  the  "engagement"  was  now 
recognized.  Burton,  stout  and  handsome,  Portuguese  in 
complexion,  strong,  sinewy  of  arm,  he  was  perfectly  confi- 
dent and  evidenced  that  he  was  at  ease  and  at  peace  with 
the  world.  Colmey  came  last.  He  was  pale  and  looked 
bored — strikingly  so  was  marked  on  his  fair,  chiseled 
face.  At  the  word  "Guard,"  both  took  quickly  a  defensive 
attitude.  Burton  was  at  once  aggressive,  the  presence  of 
the  ladies  fired  him  up.  He  at  once  pushed  Colmey, 
"feeling  his  blade,"  and  then  a  "low  carte."  Carrie  was 
jubilant,  May  nervous. 

Flashes  of  fire  were  seen  as  Colmey  fenced  and  backed. 
Burton  became  convinced  that  his  antagonist  was  over- 
cautious and  it  encouraged  him  to  continue  his  "direct 
blows."  He  hoped  to  catch  Colmey  "uncovered."  Colmey 
was  wary — he  had  tested  the  skill  and  the  temper  of  his 
adversary,  he  felt  he  was  the  better  man.  Being  sure  of 
his  "double,"  he  let  Burton  lunge  and  swing,  parrying  with 
his  "prime"  and  "tapping"  Burton's  sword  sharply  as  they 
"disengaged."  Burton  at  once  realized  that  Colmey  was 
playing  with  him;  his  eyes  scintillated,  he  quickly  made  a 
"flareconnade."  Colmey  met  it  with  a  "quinte."  Burton 
lost  his  temper.  He  boldly  rushed  Colmey,  making  a 
"tierce  guard."  Colmey  used  his  favorite  help,  a  "sept," 
and  rapped  Burton  on  his  right  shoulder. 

Burton,  now  enraged,  pushed  his  left  and  had  Colmey 
backing  and  parrying.  The  steel  of  the  swords  rang  out 
clearly  and  musically.  Colmey  turned  and  sharply  met 
Burton  with  his  "seconde,"  and  then,  in  a  twinkling  of  an 


Sword  Tourney  227 

eye,  he  used  "crossing."  He  caught  Burton's  sword  blow 
with  the  "forte  of  his  blade"  and  deftly  wrenched  it  out  of 
Burton's  grasp  and  tossed  it  over  near  by  his  uncle. 

"Call  off!"  cried  out  Martin  and  Rutledge.  Colmey  at 
once  pointed  his  sword  to  the  ground  and  stood  motionless. 
Burton,  raising  his  right  hand,  went  up  to  Colmey,  shook 
hands,  and  said  to  him,  "I  am  satisfied."  One  of  the 
women  in  her  heart  said,  "Thank  God,  oh  my  hero!"  and 
another  said,  "The  devil  take  him!"  Colmey  looked  to 
May  Montfort  as  a  godlike  human  being,  to  Carrie  he 
appeared  as  a  platonic  scion,  eternally  and  everlastingly 
coming  between  her  and  her  hopes.  Boiling  shook  hands 
with  both  men,  praised  both,  and  "was  so  glad  to  witness 
such  a  fine  exhibition  of  the  manly  art."  Rutledge  went 
up  to  Colmey  and  from  his  heart  declared  that  Old  Pro- 
fessor de  Personne  was  here  today.  "Rah  for  Glasgow! 
Damn  it,  Jean,  I  knew  you  would  do  him." 

Next  to  May  Montfort  there  was  one  heart  present  throb- 
bing, that  had  been  anxious  over  the  affair,  and  that  was 
Squire  Colmey.  Say  what  we  will,  when  our  blood-kin  is 
at  stake  we  stand  up  and  take  our  bearings.  Here  was  his 
nephew;  he  had  been  raised  abroad,  and  he  knew  he  was 
well  shaped,  was  bright  minded,  and  thought  he  had  been 
duly  trained  to  take  good  care  of  himself;  but  he  didn't 
know — now  he  knew — Jean  was  a  Colmey,  tender  and  true. 
He  wished  to  embrace  his  nephew;  but  no,  he  was  aware 
that  would  not  be  in  good  form.  Mrs.  Colmey  cried 
hysterically. 

The  sword  tournament  was  all  the  talk  of  the  house,  that 
Mr.  Burton  had  done  the  acceptable  thing.  Carrie  claimed, 
"He  just  wanted  to  make  it  lively  for  Mr.  Colmey;  that 
was  all."  May  Montfort,  from  thence  and  forevermore, 
almost  worshiped  Jean  Colmey;  he  was  her  all  in  all  for 
life.  May  knew  she  must  keep  eyes,  mouth,  and  head 
mum.  She  knew  Carrie  was  distrustful,  Boiling  watchful, 
and  Grace  Norfleet  suspicious.     She  found  Colmey's  eyes 


228  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

resting  upon  her  full  of  sadness.  She  bowed  and  burnt 
with  blushes.  Thompson  was  almost  dying  to  shout  for 
Colmey,  but  he  was  afraid  of  a  black  eye  and  a  sharp 
tongue.  Martin,  undersized  but  well  made,  twisted  his 
flowing  moustache  and  remarked,  "Rutledge,  by  the  Holy 
Mass,  Burton  failed  to  get  the  man  he  wanted  and  had  to 
swallow  some  bitter  medicine." 

"Yes,  he  did,  and  how  queer  human  nature  is!  Boiling 
honestly  believed  Burton  was  after  Colmey." 

Grace  Norfleet  asked  May,  when  alone,  if  she  could  ever 
forget  Mr.  Colmey's  sad  and  impassioned  look.  "May 
Montfort,  that  man  loves  you,  girl;  he  appears  to  me  like 
a  god  dropped  down  out  of  the  firmament.  0  my,  if  I 
had  such  a  beau!" 

"Dear  Grace,  Mr.  Colmey  is  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  and 
so  is  Mr.  Burton.  We  must  not  overlook  the  fact  that 
Mr.  Burton  bore  himself  admirably  well." 

"Yes,  May,  that  is  all  nice  in  you  to  say  so;  but  that 
comely  Colmey  was  the  observed  of  all  observing  eyes 
today." 

Next  morning  Lois  came  to  May  and  courtesied  and  said, 
"My  missus  wishes  to  see  you  in  her  room,  please." 

"Miss  May,  I  have  a  note  for  you,  and  I  hope  it  may 
agree  with  your  feelings  sufficiently  for  you  to  accept  this 
souvenir  of  Jean." 

"0  how  beautiful!  how  unique!  and  I  notice  it  has  en- 
graved on  one  side  the  Colmey  crest.  It  is  a  rare  piece  of 
old  gold  and  has  a  history.  Just  as  soon  as  I  can  speak  to 
mother  I  will  see  and  thank  Mr.  Colmey." 

"Jean  was  suddenly  called  home  and  was  in  the  saddle 
before  daybreak." 

"Gone!  Jean  Colmey  gone!  Oh,  why  did  he?"  May 
reeled,  was  as  white  as  snow  and  pulseless.  Mrs.  Colmey 
assisted  her  to  sit  on  the  couch  and  then  to  lie  down  and 
unfasten  her  dress,  bathed  her  face,  placed  salts  to  her 
nose,  and  waited. 


Sword  Tourney  229 


"i 


'Dear  Mrs.  Colmey,  have  a  conveyance  brought  around. 
I  must  go  to  my  mother." 

In  all  conditions  of  life,  in  all  this  wide  universe,  to 
every  human  heart,  how  dear  is  mother!  When  the  world 
has  turned  dark  and  cold  and  dreary,  mother  is  ever  faith- 
ful, sympathetic. 

When  May  Montfort  reached  home  her  mother  was 
startled  to  see  her  pallor  "Dear  child,  what  can  be  the 
trouble,  tell  me?"  "Let  me  rest,  mother,  right  here  by 
you;  don't  leave  me  for  a  little  minute  I  am  just  a  little 
sick,  nothing  more."  She  placed  her  hand  in  her  mother's 
and  soon  fell  into  refreshing  sleep.  On  awakening  her 
first  thought  was  of  the  note.  She  went  into  her  room,  sat 
down  and  read  it: 

Dear  Miss  May  Montfort: 

This  small  gift  I  wish  to  give  you  was  given  to  me  in  Scotland. 
It  was  found  in  the  woody  hills  of  Lanark  near  Glasgow.  I 
suppose  it  is  centuries  old,  and  may  have  been  worn  by  the  Queen 
of  Sheba.  Please  accept  it  and  sometimes  remember  the  man 
who  wore  your  colors  and  rode  to  victory  in  the  hotly  contested 
race  between  the  Black  and  the  Gray.  I  shall  ever  prize  the 
locket  given  by  you  to  me  and  keep  enclosed  the  colors  worn  on 
that  joyful  occasion. 

Your  approving  smile  will  be  ever  remembered  by 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Jean  Colmey. 


XXXVI 


COLMEY'S  DEPARTURE  FROM  HALIFAX 

"For  such  is  Fate,  nor  canst  thou  turn  its  course; 
Fly  if  thou  wilt  to  earth's  remotest  bound." 

— Iliad. 

Colmey  came  out  of  the  shadows  of  the  old  tulip  tree, 
and  was  well  nigh  crazed  with  poignant  thoughts.  Carrie's 
poisoned  arrow  rankled  f  esteringly  in  the  very  warp  of  his 
heart.  He  felt  as  fierce  as  an  enraged  Bengal  bison.  At 
one  moment  he  hated  May,  he  hated  the  world,  he  hated 
himself;  the  next  minute  a  wave  of  never-dying  love  over- 
powered his  senses.  Her  everyday  sound  sense,  her  sym- 
metry of  shape,  her  pureness  of  purpose  entranced  him 
more  than  her  bewildering  loveliness. 

"My  God,  is  she  human?  She  is  the  daydawn,  the 
sacred  essence  of  my  adoration.  Is  such  love  as  mine 
punishable  because  indivertible?  Her  sympathy  for  others, 
her  gentle  voice,  bind  me  to  her  with  fetters  forged  in 
love's  doubly  heated  furnace.  In  Christ's  name,  let  the 
curtain  of  forgetfulness  drop,  I  pray;  let  the  lights  of  the 
past  go  out!  Oh,  if  I  could  only  die  and  end  it!  How  fondly 
I  have  hoped  that  my  mother's  tambour  of  such  estimate 
might  be  of  daily  use;  but  no,  not  now.  I  must  seek 
shelter  in  the  ferny  solitudes  of  Laurel  Ridge  from  the 
pitiless  storm  now  pelting  my  maddened  brain. 

"I  must  go  away  from  here;  I  fear  my  aunt's  searching 
eye.  Yes,  down  among  the  quivering  reeds  of  the  dark 
blue  river,  there  I  will  push  my  canoe,  try  to  forget;  record 
my  visit  here  as  a  sweet  dream  to  be  forgotten,  a  feverish, 
sleeping  vision  of  my  young  manhood.     I  can  remember 

230 


Colmey's  Departure  From  Halifax  231 

the  sacred  cup  of  Sangreal  and  take  comfort  therefrom." 
He  went  into  the  house,  to  his  uncle's  room,  and  softly 
touched  the  small  bronze  knocker  on  the  door. 

He  forced  himself  to  set  a  smile  on  his  face,  he  steadied 
his  voice  and  made  his  manner  thoughtful,  important. 

"Jean,  I  can  hardly  reconcile  myself  to  this  hasty  action 
on  your  part.  If  you  will  start  so  early,  I  will  send  the 
servants  and  your  pair  of  fillies  under  Johnson's  direction. 
You  see  it  will  take  a  little  while  to  get  their  belongings 
together.  Your  aunt  has  already  provided  for  Abigail, 
and  the  boy  and  girl  are  to  be  cared  for.  You  know  they 
ought  easily  to  reach  Edenton  in  fourteen  hours  steady 
travel,  but  negroes  fear  Indians  and,  like  Indians,  they 
have  an  innate  aversion  to  moving  about  after  nightfall. 
They  will  be  sure  to  camp  on  Cashi  River  instead  of  push- 
ing on  to  Black  Rock.  I  shall  order  the  brig  to  take  them 
to  Laurel  Ridge." 

"Uncle,  you  do  too  much  for  me." 

"Is  Samson  living?" 

"0  yes,  sir,  and  in  fine  health." 

"He  is  Deborah's  husband,  and  his  mother  was  most 
handy." 

"Jean,  is  old  Aunt  Mirandy  living?" 

"0  yes,  sir,  and  stirs  about  quite  actively." 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  from  her.  She  is  about  ninety 
years  old." 

"Now,  don't  forget  to  remember  me  and  your  aunt,  too, 
kindly  to  all  of  them,  and  if  my  health  will  only  improve 
next  fall  I  shall  consider  myself  blessed  if  allowed  to  pay 
you  a  long  visit.  Come  to  see  us,  dear  boy;  you  remind 
me  forcibly  of  your  father.  Here,  take  your  uncle's 
blessing  with  you." 

The  uncle  and  nephew  embraced  and  tears  were  seen  to 
gather  in  their  eyes  as  they  said  to  one  another,  "Good-bye, 
uncle" — "God  bless  you,  Jean." 

By  daybreak  Colmey  was  mounted  and  on  his  way  to 


232  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Edenton.  After  getting  a  few  miles  on  his  way,  being 
young  and  full  of  vitality,  he  commenced  sadly  singing  the 
old  refrain : 

"The  soldier  from  the  war  returns, 
The  merchant  from  the  main, 
But  I  ha'  parted  wi  my  love 
An'  ne'er  to  meet  again, 

My  dear, 
An'  ne'er  to  meet  again." 

Remo  found  it  difficult  to  keep  up  with  his  master.  Col- 
mey was  anxious  to  get  out  of  the  neighborhood  before 
there  were  travelers  abroad.     He  soon  fell  to  whistling: 

"O  dearer  far  than  seals  of  power, 
Or  gilded  wall  or  dome, 
The  mossy  mound,  the  spreading  bower, 
Around  my  sea-girt  home. 

"I  hold  it  true,  whate'er  befall, 

I  feel  it  when  I  sorrow  most: 
'Tis  better  to  have  loved  and  lost 
Than  never  to  have  loved  at  all." 

"Yes,  loved  and  lost,  how  better!" 

"She  will  always  stand  as  a  Paros  chiseled  column  of 
beauty  amid  the  ruins  of  the  temple  I  had  erected  in  my 
sanguine  daydreams,  a  sweet,  holy  recollection.  She  treated 
me  fair.  I  can't  hang  an  objection  up  in  the  halls  of 
memory  against  her,  but — 

"I  hate  the  name  of  Tom  Boiling.  I  was  afraid  to  trust 
my  temper  in  his  presence,  but  I  feel  mean  to  think  so,  it 
is  currish.  I  used  to  consider  all  men  my  friends,  but 
now  they  are  to  me  but  crowing  cocks,  bubbles  only  in  this 
troubled  summer  stream  of  life.  Bah!  And  I  have  to  go 
eat  the  bitter  bread  of  heart  discontent  until  this  bootless 
grief  can  be  comforted  by  time. 

"And  what  hurts  so  is  that  truth  forces  me  to  say  that 


Colmey's  Departure  From  Halifax  233 

Boiling  is  a  fine,  handsome  fellow.  In  fact,  she  can't  do 
better  than  marry  him.  He  has  always  acted  the  gentle- 
man with  me.  I  could  nearly  love  the  fellow — but  he 
loves  May. 

"I've  got  her  locket  and  will  wear  it  evermore." 
Remo  came  riding  hotly  after  his  master.  He  felt  seri- 
ously aggrieved.  Remo  was  one  of  those  of  a  saucy  kind; 
he  could  fall  in  love  with  any  buxom,  forward  housemaid 
that  came  his  way.  "Thar  goes  Marse  Jean  a-ridin'  as  if 
he  wus  crazy.  He's  in  one  of  his  mad-pets  and  specs  me 
to  keep  up  with  Merlin.  Lucrecy,  I  could  see,  was  jes 
ready  to  give  in  to  me.  She  suits  me.  I'm  goin'  to  have 
her,  if  I  have  to  run  away  and  come  back  for  her.  Marse 
Jean  has  done  and  mint  my  plans." 

Master  and  man  so  little  understood  each  other.  One 
heart  was  struck  forever,  the  other  for  a  season — both 
spurring  their  horses,  placing  miles  between  them  and  those 
tugging  at  their  heart-strings.  Merlin  bounded  forward 
and  faster  at  the  least  touch  of  the  silver  spur,  covering 
mile  after  mile  with  easy  speed.  The  very  heavens  that 
morning  to  master  and  man  were  hung  with  somber  colors, 
and  every  bird  to  him  was  as  a  croaking  raven. 


XXXVII 


THE  PASTURAGE  OF  THE  TIDES 

"The  tributes  which  my  other  subjects  bring 
Must  moulder  into  dust — but  holy  men 
Present  me  with  a  portion  of  the  fruits 
Of  penitential  services  and  prayers; 
A  precious  and  an  imperishable  gift." 

— Kalisasa. 

Who  are  the  holy  men  proper?  I  take  it  they  are  those 
who  humbly  walk  in  the  pathway  of  life  contentedly;  those 
who  have  a  holiness  of  spirit  pervading  their  lives  and  who 
timely  hold  to  having  purity  and  peace  established  in  their 
homes,  whether  in  cloisters  upon  the  pinnacled  Alps,  or  as 
messengers  of  light  among  the  savage  tribes;  or  those  who 
daily  risk  their  lives  upon  the  dangerous  deep,  securing 
nutriment  for  strangers  and  wringing  from  the  waters 
sustenance  for  loved  ones  remaining  in  their  humble  homes 
upon  the  wave-washed  sand  dunes. 

To  their  credit  it  can  be  avowed  that  fishermen  and  farm- 
ers are  the  feeders  of  the  world.  The  farmer  first  feeds 
himself,  and  then  stands  at  his  barn  door  and  hands  out 
bread  to  the  multitudes.  He  has  a  place  all  his  own  among 
the  children  of  men. 

Mrs.  Banbury  was  ingenious.  She  found  means  by 
which  she  could  hold  Colmey  in  the  house  so  that  he  should 
be  in  the  society  of  Lola  and  under  her  subtle  guidance. 
She  knew  that  lambs,  when  much  together  on  hillside  or 
grassy  lawn,  sooner  or  later  become  much  attached  to  each 
other  and  would  plaintively  cry  when  separated  for  the 
absent  one.  She  had  naturally  an  inquisitive  turn  of  mind, 
and  it  made  her  observant  of  times  and  induced  her  to  be  a 

234 


The  Pasturage  of  the  Tides  235 

good,  patient  listener  when  she  was  self-interested.  She 
discreetly  led  Colmey  to  speak  of  his  travels  abroad,  and 
she  manifested  the  utmost  concern  in  his  narrative.  She 
was  a  natural-born  angler  and  psychiatrist.  Her  rod  was 
often  seen  dipping  into  the  gnarled  river  spots  best  known 
as  the  finest  resorts  for  silent  angling. 

"Mr.  Colmey,  I  am  so  unacquainted  with  the  tides  and 
fisheries,  I  have  quite  a  longing  to  know  something  about 
each,  and  I  know  Lola  will  be  an  interested  listener  of  the 
Pasturage  of  the  Tides."  Mrs.  Banbury  cared  nothing  for 
the  ebb  and  flow  or  for  catching  of  fishes,  but  she  wanted  to 
hold  Colmey. 

"Well,  to  be  acquainted  with  nettings,  with  hand  lines, 
with  trawls  and  traps,  one  must  go  along  the  waterways 
and  notice  the  workers  as  they  go  forth  and  come  in  with 
the  fruits  of  their  labors.  You  know  fishing  and  angling 
are  quite  distinguished  from  each  other  by  the  law  of 
profit — one  is  a  business,  the  other  a  pastime." 

"Oh,  well,  Mr.  Colmey,  I  know  the  perch  and  the  chub; 
but  as  to  any  other  of  the  finny  tribe  I  am  densely  ignorant." 

"Mrs.  Banbury,  I  might  say  the  sharks  are  for  Japan,  the 
sturgeon  for  China,  the  sea-herring  and  halibut  for  Britain, 
the  tunny  and  turbot  for  France,  and  the  codfish  for  New 
England,  while  the  mullet  and  trout  are  prime  favorites 
for  the  southern  section  of  America.  Of  course,  the  carp 
is  a  German  fish.  At  Petershead  I  saw  about  three  hun- 
dred boats  going  out  with  the  wind  and  some  were  to  never 
return." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Colmey,  how  can  you  account  for  the  moon 
being  mistress  of  the  tides? — so  overwhelming  is  the 
thought  to  me!     Tell  us  something,  please." 

"Well,  madam,  the  study  of  the  neap  and  spring  tides, 
the  solar  and  lunar  forces,  the  yoking  of  the  moon  and  the 
earth  together  by  an  invisible  tie-band,  is  a  study  intricate 
and  unsatisfactory." 


236  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  the  earth  and  the  moon  are 
yokefellows,  Mr.  Colmey?" 

"I  can  but  think,  madam,  that  the  earth  is  the  great  mag- 
net with  its  buried  millions  of  metals,  with  caverns  miles 
deep  to  hold  hidden  volumes  of  water,  its  coal  fields  and 
oil  wells  daily  generating  tidal  impulses  of  which  man  is 
but  slightly  acquainted.  The  forced  and  free  oscillation  of 
the  sea  is  to  me  a  great  mystery,  like  unto  the  dynamical 
theory  of  the  tides  that  through  the  electric  forces  draw 
insistently  to  its  shores  the  tides  of  the  unfathomable  deep. 
The  instability,  the  fluidity  of  the  sea,  surpasses  my  com- 
prehension. Man  can  but  stand  awed  at  Infinity,  and  the 
contemplation  of  the  ways  and  powers  of  Deity  strikes  him 
dumb  with  fear  and  admiration." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  did  you  ever  see  a  catch  of  sturgeon  or 
whale?  I  know  it  must  be  a  thrilling  sight,  and  then  those 
dear  sea-calves  following  the  mother  whale  and  under  her 
motherly  care  night  and  day  to  guard  against  skipper  and 
shark!" 

"I  never  witnessed  a  catch  of  that  kind,  and  you  know 
those  big  fish  are  the  property  of  the  Crown;  the  oil  is  so 
valuable.  Either  whale  or  sturgeon  cast  ashore  is  claimed 
by  the  Donatory.  It  always  pleased  me  to  see  caught  the 
porpoise.  As  you  know,  he  is  as  voracious  as  a  sea  fox. 
The  porpoise  furnishes  very  valuable  oil  for  delicate  ma- 
chinery, and  these  thick-skinned  beauties  pursue  the  salmon 
and  herring  destructively.  The  laws  of  Scotland  as  to 
salmon  are  peculiarly  protective." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  it  seems  to  be  a  painful  fact  that  every 
living  thing  on  earth,  in  air  or  water,  has  to  meet  dangerous 
enemies." 

"Yes,  madam;  the  cruel,  cunning  spider  dreads  the 
deadly  sting  of  the  scorpion." 

"Did  you  see,  while  away,  any  of  those  sea-bedrabbled 
sisters?" 

"Yes,  madam.     I  remember  the  crying  of  the  fishwives 


The  Pasturage  of  the  Tides  237 

coming  up  from  the  fisheries  below  Glasgow;  once  heard, 
never  forgotten.     You  hear  the  appeal,   'Caller  herrin'! 
caller  herrin'!     Wha'll  buy  my  caller  herrin'?'  sounding 
above   the   noise   of  vehicle   and   the   subdued   noise   of 
bells.     The  braw  Scottish  accents,  spoken  from  vigorous 
bodies,  make  the  heart  stop  and  listen  and  arouses  within 
you  a  peculiar  interest  in  those  human  bodies,  offering  for 
sale  the  product  of  food,  fishes  out  of  the  waters  where 
thousands  are  wont  to  labor,  those  who  went  out  to  sea  and 
never  have  returned.     You  can  hardly  meet  one  of  them 
that  has  not  a  sad-marked  face  and  a  pathetic  life  story; 
for  their  lives,  their  husbands'  and  lovers'  lives,  are  fraught 
with  romance  and  tragedy,  and  hardly  a  moon  fulls  and 
wanes  but  that  you  can  hear  the  wail  of  despair  from 
mothers  and  wives  over  the  engulfment  of  Gowen  and 
Donald,  who  were  both  bonny  and  brave.     Sex  obsession 
to  them  was  fortunately  unknown.     You  see  them  strung 
out,  a  square  or  more,  short-petticoated,  strong-limbed  and 
sunbrowned ;  and  the  burdens  borne  by  them  were  incredi- 
ble to  me.     You  see,  each  woman's  creel  rests  upon  her 
back  and  holds  about  a  hundredweight  of  fish,  while  a 
basket  above  it  has  the  choicest,  weighing  more  or  less  a 
half  a  hundred.     They  pass  up  the  great  thoroughfare 
bareheaded,  seemingly  oblivious  to  their  attractive  appear- 
ance.    This  one  fact  made  me  observe  them  closely  and 
politely  ask  them  questions  as  to  the  dangerous  vocations 
of  their  husbands  and  as  to  the  oppressions  of  their  bur- 
dens.    I  found  that  these   women  made  themselves  almost 
beasts  of  cartage  for  the  maintenance  of  their  numerous 
offspring.     They  cheerily  went  about  their  business   in 
calling  for  buyers  of  their  wares,  and,  although  heavily 
weighted  (nigh  unto  two  hundred)  and  trudging  over  the 
rough  hills,  it  was  seldom  you  heard  a  complaint  from  any 
of  them.     I  asked  a  middleaged  woman  if  she  enjoyed  her 
vocation.     She  sadly  smiled  and  answered,  'My  trade  is  all 
well,  but  the  water  Kelpie  was  abroad  and  my  poor  man 


238  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

was  lost  to  me  in  the  last  bitter  gale.'  There  is  an  elo- 
quence in  the  speech  of  these  hard  laboring  women  that 
awakens  the  most  tender  emotions.  I  now  hear  their  anx- 
ious, hearty  calling.  I  became  so  interested  in  these  parti- 
colored dressed  sturdy  Scotchwomen  that  I  hired  a  boatman 
to  pull  me  down  to  their  landing  to  witness  the  incoming  of 
the  men  and  watch  the  anxiety  expressed  in  face  and  voice 
of  the  sea-tanned  women.  Some  of  the  fishers  had  pros- 
perously returned,  their  boat  nearly  buried  in  the  waters 
by  the  weight  of  many  'good  catches,'  and  then  one  came 
who  had  been  out,  a  driftage,  beat  about  by  the  waves,  the 
storm  and  wind,  with  hardly  'a  scale'  on  board,  and  the 
men  so  exhausted  and  weary  that  it  was  with  sore  difficulty 
that  their  boat  could  be  safely  shored.  Oh,  those  goodly 
women,  bare-armed  wives,  splashed  through  the  eddying 
waters,  and  boldly  lifting  their  husbands  in  their  strong 
arms,  bore  them  bravely  to  the  beach.  What  cheers  went 
up!  How  endearing  were  their  tones,  how  affectionate 
their  embrace!  I  retraced  the  way,  and  unto  this  day  I 
sweetly  remember  the  coming  back  of  the  belated  fishermen 
to  their  waiting,  eager  helpmeets.  Those  women  are  to  me 
'Normandy  pippins,'  sundried  and  for  winter  use,  abiding 
in  constancy,  immortal  in  purpose." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  I  almost  envy  you  that  vivid  recollection." 

"I  hear  now  their  wild  song  cry: 

"Wha'll  buy  my  caller  herrin'? 
0,  ye  may  call  them  vulgar  farin — 
Wives  and  mithers  maist  despairin'. 
Cd  them — lives  of  men." 


XXXVIII 

LOLA  BANBURY  AT  MONTFORT 

"O  take  fast  hold,  let  that  light  be  thy  guide, 
In  this  small  course,  ivhich  birth  draws  out  to  death, 
Who  seeketh  heaven,  comes  of  heavenly  breath — 
Then  farewell — world.     The  uttermost  I  see, 
Eternal  love  maintains  this  life  in  me." 

— Sidney. 

"Miss  Montfort,  I  am  on  my  way  to  Petersburg  to  make 
purchases  for  my  coming  nuptials.  I  would  be  so  glad  for 
you  to  accompany  me.  The  world  looks  so  lovely  just  at 
this  time — the  trees  are  so  beautiful  and  green,  the  waters 
so  sparkling  and  bright,  the  blue  above  me — all,  all,  to  me 
looks  love." 

"Is  your  marriage  to  be  soon?" 

"Just  two  moons  away,  then  I  am  to  marry  Mr.  Colmey." 

"Colmey?     What  Colmey?" 

"You  don't  know  him.  He  is  of  Laurel  Ridge.  Yrou 
see,  I  nursed  him  through  a  protracted  illness.  Dr.  Dil- 
lard  often  told  him  it  was  my  tender,  faithful  vigilance  that 
kept  him  from  death." 

"When  did  all  this  happen,  Miss  Banbury?" 

"About  four  months  ago  he  fell  suddenly  ill  at  our 
house.  He  raved  at  times,  cursed  the  name  of  Boiling — 
there  seems  to  have  been  a  lady  in  it,  some  way." 

"Did  he  mention  her  name?" 

"No,  he  did  not.  He  cried  out  in  agony  that  all  his 
hopes  were  dead." 

"I  suppose,  Miss  Banbury,  he  is  somewhat  advanced  in 
age,  is  he?" 

"No,  no,  he  is  young,  fair  and  handsome,  and  what 

239 


240  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

worries  me  is  he  has  never  told  me  he  loved  me.  He  and 
mother  were  discussing  Hamlet  and  speaking  of  Ophelia. 
Mother  glanced  innocently  at  me  and  remarked  she  believed 
I  was  as  silly  as  Ophelia  if  my  love  was  unrequited;  and 
I  spoke  out  boldly  to  humor  mother,  that  yes,  I  would  do 
as  she  did — I  would  destroy  myself." 

"Did  Mr.  Colmey  notice  it?" 

"Notice  it!  Oh,  my!  I  can  see  him  now  turn  deadly 
pale;  he  seemed  so  shocked." 

"I  suppose  he  discussed  with  your  mother  Hamlet  and 
Ferdinand's  meeting  at  the  grave?" 

"No,  he  begged  to  be  excused  and  walked  out,  and  went 
toward  the  sound.  Somehow  I  fear  he  was  much  heart- 
struck  over  poor  Ophelia's  passion." 

Miss  Banbury  and  her  father  had  stopped  over  at  Mont- 
fort  Manor,  as  Mr.  Montfort  was  an  early  and  dear  friend 
of  Mr.  Banbury's.  The  two  young  ladies,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  became  much  interested  in  each  other. 

After  Mr.  Banbury  and  daughter  passed  on  to  Petersburg 
May  Montfort  felt  that  her  heart  would  break.  In  a  mo- 
ment's time,  in  the  few  words  spoken,  she  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  fact  that  a  life  of  sadness  and  solitude 
was  before  her,  or  that  she  must  marry.  "I  will  try  to 
make  my  home  my  sanctuary.  I  have  a  good  will  to  go 
home  with  Miss  Banbury.  Am  I  to  get  used  to  Fortune's 
fickleness?  I  rightfully  see  I  am  to  imprison  my  lost  hap- 
piness in  my  bursting  breast." 

Her  mother  came  in  and  asked  her,  "May,  who  is  Miss 
Banbury  to  marry?" 

"Mr.  Colmey,  mother." 

"Who?  You  don't  mean  the  young  man  who  gave  you 
through  his  aunt  the  bangle?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,  the  same." 

"May,  send  that  bangle  back  to  him.  I  would  not  have 
it  to  save  his  life;  send  it  back  right  away."     May  made 


Lola  Banbury  at  Montfort  241 

no  response.  She  knew  that  enchanted  bangle  should 
never  grace  the  arm  of  Miss  Banbury  as  a  bride — never. 

May  fell  into  deep  thought.  "Poor,  dear  soul,  he  does 
not  love  her.  Grateful  toward  her  for  her  nursing,  and 
fear  that  she  might  do  herself  some  bodily  harm,  made  him 
take  this  step  so  fatal  to  me.  The  light  has  gone  out  of  my 
life." 

The  world's  face  had  in  an  hour  become  changed  for  the 
worse  with  May.  Walking  up  and  down  her  room,  she 
said,  her  white  teeth  firmly  clenched:  "That  mother  of  hers 
hatched  up  this  conquest.  For  the  life  of  me  I  cannot  see 
how  he  became  convinced  that  I  was  betrothed  to  Tom  Boil- 
ing. I  love  Carrie;  but  down  in  my  heart  I  believe  she  did 
the  trick — her  durity  has  undone  me.  'Tis  said  men  are 
mean,  but  for  traps  and  intrigues  I  would  lay  a  wager  on 
women.  Many  of  them  have  natures  more  duplex  and 
computable  than  men  ever  dreamed  of.  I  can  but  admire 
Mrs.  Banbury's  diplomacy,  if  I  am  made  to  deplore  the 
results.  My  heart  is  Jean  Colmey's,  his  heart  is  mine.  I 
have  it!  I  will  not  let  it  go."  That  night  she  dreamed 
she  saw  a  fair  young  man,  sword  in  hand,  hatless,  in  buff 
boots  and  belt. 

She  was  not  at  home  when  the  Banburys  passed  through, 
returning  to  Edenton. 

Lola  Banbury  had  no  particular  friends  and  no  enemies. 
She  was  classed  at  school  and  among  her  acquaintances 
was  considered  indifferent.  She  seemed  to  find  in  herself 
the  company  preferable  to  her.  Young  men  came  to  see 
her,  but  they  came  but  once.  Now  in  her  twenty-fourth 
year  her  mother  took  things  in  her  own  hands  and  com- 
menced planning.  She  awoke  Lola  to  the  fact  that  several 
of  her  schoolmates  had  married  well,  and  that  she  was  a 
rose  left  ungathered.  If  Lola  was  dull,  when  fully  aroused 
she  was  painstaking  and  steady.  Now  Mr.  Colmey  came 
in  sight,  took  down  suddenly  sick.  Here  was  the  chance 
of  a  lifetime.     If  Miss  Banbury  was  asleep  and  Mrs.  Ban- 

16 


242  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

bury  heard  the  doctor's  rap  with  the  old  brass  knocker  on 
the  door,  she  awoke  Lola  and  had  her  to  be  all  attention  to 
the  needs  of  the  sick  man.  If  she  had  labored  long  and 
hard  over  a  dish  relishable,  it  was  Lola  who  had  striven  to 
please  the  sick  man.  Dr.  Dillard  thought  that  Miss  Lola 
was  a  ministering  angel  heretofore  overlooked. 

Lola  Banbury  was  of  an  old  and  wealthy  family  of 
people,  and  this  fact  made  her  invitable  to  all  receptions. 
She  was  asked  just  to  make  up  the  quota,  not  that  she  lent 
any  charm  to  the  party  or  added  a  gem  to  the  setting.  She 
was  fairly  fair-faced,  light  brown  hair,  hazel  eyes,  small 
white  teeth,  and  a  good  shaped  large  mouth.  Her  under 
jaw  betokened  determination  when  aroused.  She  was 
rather  low,  with  short  neck.  Her  step  was  quick  and 
sprightly,  and  her  voice  a  little  gross.  Her  forehead  was 
high  and  receding,  and  hands  and  feet  were  aristocratic. 

She  did  not  hesitate  to  show  her  fondness  for  Colmey; 
and  her  boat,  her  horse  and  turnout  were  ever  ready  for  his 
pleasure  and  convenience.  She  made  every  endeavor  to 
endear  herself  to  the  young  man.  She  had  made  up  her 
mind  to  capture  him,  she  loved  him  in  her  cold  way  of 
loving,  and  she  tugged  away  patiently  to  accomplish  her 
purpose.  She  was  naturally  proud,  but  was  ready  to  stoop 
if  by  stooping  she  might  conquer. 


XXXIX 

MISS  BANBURY'S  RETURN  AND  MARRIAGE 

"From  fairest  creation  we  desire  increase" 

Several  of  the  young  men  and  ladies  had  gathered  at  the 
"Hall"  to  welcome  Miss  Lola's  return  home.  Edenton 
always  lived  after  the  manner  of  the  Golden  Age.  Edenton 
had  attracted  the  talent  and  wealth  largely  of  the  eastern 
portion  of  the  State,  and  the  citizens  lived  in  much  style 
and  affluence.  Hospitality  was  universal,  and  good  fellow- 
ship the  rule.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Sitgreaves  officiated  at  the 
marriage  of  Jean  Colmey  and  Lola  Banbury,  and  much 
mirth,  much  rice,  much  love  and  good  wishes  followed  them 
as  they  left  for  Laurel  Ridge. 

Quite  a  large  company  accompanied  the  bridal  party, 
and  the  bride  and  friends  were  a  little  surprised  and  greatly 
pleased  at  the  splendor  of  the  tableware  and  household 
paraphernalia.  Boat  sails,  horseback  rides,  fishing  parties, 
filled  up  the  time  and  all  was  merry  as  a  marriage  bell. 

"Jean,  where  on  earth  did  you  get  such  china  and  glass, 
and  such  silverware?  And,  dear  Jean,  let  me  claim  as  my 
own  this  handsome  hound." 

"All  right,  Lola — I  shall  call  you  Lola.  Come  here, 
Sligo;  this  is  your  mistress,  and  you  belong  to  her  and  no 
one  else."  The  hound  looked  up  wistfully  into  her  face 
and  sat  down  upon  his  haunches,  satisfied. 

"Sligo,  I  go,  you  go,  too." 

Mrs.  Colmey  had  brought  her  own  maid,  as  was  the  cus- 
tom, and  soon  everything  settled  down  and  went  along 
smoothly  as  the  waters  of  an  uneventful  lake. 

At  the  table,  at  the  back  of  her  chair,  sat  Sligo,  the  tan- 

243 


244  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

colored  greyhound  most  gracefully  proportioned.  The 
collar  on  his  neck  was  a  mystery  to  his  mistress.  It  was  a 
silver  collar  with  markings  unknown  to  her.  "Jean,  what 
is  that  on  Sligo's  collar — the  hound  you  gave  me?  That 
on  the  seal  ring  and  silverware?"  Mrs.  Colmey  soon  be- 
came aware  that  there  was  a  mystery  about  Sligo  and  the 
silverware  and  Jean's  extra  large  seal  ring.  In  fact,  she 
gravely  concluded  in  her  mind  that  Colmey  was  a  mystery. 
Womanlike,  the  mystery  amused  and  harassed  her. 

The  proposed  visitation  to  Frank  Thompson's  was  looked 
forward  to  by  Mrs.  Colmey  with  much  satisfaction.  On 
arriving  at  Ashmead  Farm,  a  welcome  pure,  simple,  and 
hearty  was  extended.  "Jean,  by  George,  I  am  so  glad  to 
see  you  and  your  wife.  Come  right  in  and  make  your- 
selves at  home." 

"Mr.  Colmey,  really  your  coming  has  filled  me  with 
forebodings  and  with  pleasure  unalloyed.  I  feared  you 
might  not  come,  and  if  you  did  come,  I  was  afraid  I  would 
not  deport  myself  becomingly."  Soon  Lola  and  Carrie 
were  old  friends,  and  Carrie,  finding  out  she  had  been  at 
the  Montforts,  was  in  a  flutter  to  ask  about  May — how 
she  looked,  what  she  talked  about,  and  did  she  mention 
Colmey. 

Twelve  months  from  the  day  of  the  nuptials  Mrs.  Colmey 
was  blessed  with  a  fine  male  heir,  George.  The  maternity 
of  her  loyal  nature  was  fully  awakened  into  activity  in  the 
care  and  in  the  watchings  over  her  extra  fine  offspring. 

"Jean,  he  certainly  favors  you." 

"You  think  so?" 

"Jean,  don't  you  think  so?     Don't  you  say  no." 

"Well,  yes,  but  all  babies  look  very  much  alike  to  me. 
Of  course  this  little  man  is  a  notable  exception,  and  I  do 
hope  he  will  favor  and  be  like  my  father." 

"And  why  not  like  my  father?" 

"Yes,  but,  Lola,  your  father  is  living  so  you  can  see  him 


Miss  Banbury's  Return  and  Marriage  245 

and  enjoy  his  company,  but  mine — "  Colmey  wanted  his 
boy  so  favored  that  his  father  stood  preeminently  first. 

Prosperity  smiled  upon  Colmey.  He  owned  wide  acres 
in  cultivation,  his  servants  had  increased  in  numbers,  his 
cattle  and  swine  were  numerous;  and,  all  in  all,  he  was 
called  in  his  section  a  wealthy  and  influential  citizen,  re- 
spected most  highly  for  his  sterling  integrity.  Jean  Ban- 
bury and  a  daughter,  May  Belle,  had  been  added  by  kind 
Providence  to  sweeten  his  marital  existence.  The  terrible 
hurricane  that  swept  over  the  coast  in  1761  was  witness  to 
being  what  once  was  Johnstone  City  was  a  wreck  and  left  in 
its  wake  a  cavity  of  great  size  and  depth,  and  a  new  channel 
established  between,  were  all  a  silent  reminder  to  the 
present  and  future  generations  of  what  Nature  can  do  in  a 
night. 

The  political  horizon  was  getting  darker  daily.  The 
Minute  Men  of  New  Bern  had  forced  Governor  Martin  to 
seek  shelter  in  a  warship  near  Wilmington  and  the  Cape 
Fear  men  had  arisen,  led  by  Ashe  and  Waddell,  and  en- 
couraged by  the  boldness  of  John  Harvey  and  others;  and 
Great  Britain  found  herself  confronted  by  a  question  that 
was  only  to  be  settled  by  years  of  bloody  suffering  and 
sacrifice.  American  independence  was  declared!  The 
grim  visage  of  War  was  seen  across  the  Western  World. 

Colmey  had  received  a  letter  from  his  merchant  to  come 
to  Wilmington  when  convenient,  as  he  wished  to  consult 
him  on  a  business  enterprise.  He  had  been  away  from 
home  two  days.  Early  in  the  morning  Tasker  came  and 
handed  him  a  note  from  Dr.  McMillan,  saying:  "Come 
at  once,  I  fear  Mrs.  Colmey  is  dying."  He  ordered  Remo 
to  bring  his  horse  at  once  and  for  him  and  Tasker  to  come 
on,  but  not  too  hastily.  He  swung  himself  into  the  saddle 
and,  patting  his  blood  bay  mare  on  her  neck,  he  said  feel- 
ingly, "Drusille,  for  God's  sake,  hurry!"  In  a  few  hours 
Colmey  rode  up  to  his  home.  Handing  the  reins  to  a 
servant,  he  hastily  entered  his  wife's  room.     She  was  dead. 


246  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

The  Doctor  said  influenza.     "Oh,  my  God!     The  mother 
of  my  children — my  wife — away  from  her  people." 

Poor  Drusille!  She  had  felt  the  cruel  spur  dig  into  her 
sides.  She  had  heard  her  master  call  to  her,  "Drusille, 
faster,  faster!"  When  the  stable  boy  led  her  away  to  un- 
saddle and  to  remove  the  bridle,  the  bridle  was  immovable 
from  her  mouth,  her  eyes  rolled,  she  staggered  and  fell 
lifeless  at  his  feet.  It  seemed  to  Colmey  that  the  whole 
world  had  gone  wrong  in  a  day. 

"The  silver  cord  was  loosened,  the  golden  bowl  broken." 


XL 


UNCLE  JOSHUA'S  WEDDING 

"/  like  a  head  well  stocked  with  sense,  like  thine" 

— La  Fontaine. 

"Jean,  I  have  been  thinking  about  it,  the  giving  of  you 
some  material  farm  help.  I  have  a  woman  here  with  one 
child,  a  girl  twelve  years  old,  and  a  son  about  eighteen 
years  old;  and  all  three  are  healthy,  honest  and  intelligent. 
Abigail  is  a  first-class  worker  at  the  loom  and  wheel,  a 
good  cutter  and  fitter.  She  can  manage  women  well,  and 
would  see  to  the  making  of  clothes  for  your  plantation. 
Lizzette,  her  daughter,  would  make  a  good  housemaid,  and 
Tasker,  her  son,  would  be  an  all-round  good  manservant. 
Let's  walk  down  to  her  quarters." 

"Well,  Abigail,  have  you  thought  over  what  we  were 
talking  about  yesterday?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Jean,  I  told  Abigail  that  if  she  didn't  like  to  remain 
away  you  would  send  her  safely  back." 

"Yes,  uncle,  I  will.  And  I  say  right  here  in  her  pres- 
ence that  she  shall  be  at  liberty  to  approach  me  if  she  wishes 
to  return  at  any  time." 

After  Colmey  and  his  uncle  had  gotten  out  of  sight, 
Abigail  went  into  her  house  and  commenced  getting  ready 
for  her  departure.  She  had  been  told  in  her  childhood  by 
a  very  old  aunty  that  her  last  days  would  be  passed  by 
great  waters,  and  now  she  was  to  realize  it.  She  also  re- 
membered that  old  Uncle  Luke  had  said  that  she  would  be 
married  twice.  That  night  she  stole  away  and  went  to  the 
grave  of  Manuel,  the  father  of  her  children.  She  knelt 
down  and  prayed  that  in  the  far-away  blue  land  of  Jehovah 

247 


248  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

that  she  and  Manuel  might  meet  again.  On  arriving  at 
Laurel  Ridge  landing,  the  first  one  to  meet  them  was  rather 
an  aged  man  by  the  name  of  Uncle  Joshua.  Why  was  it 
she  was  drawn  toward  him  irresistibly?  Feeling  lonesome 
among  strangers,  her  heart  open  and  tender,  she  leaned  at 
once  on  this  man,  although  he  was  getting  very  gray  and  his 
face  furrowed  with  wrinkles. 

"Well,  chile,  you  and  yer  childen  come  to  my  house;  my 
wife's  dead  and  I  am  a  lone  man.     Jes  cum  dis  way." 

"Consideration,  like  an  angel,  came." 

Early  next  morning  Uncle  Joshua  was  up  and  raking 
aside  the  ashes.  To  the  exposed  sandstone,  which  through 
the  night  hours  had  retained  the  fire  heat,  he  deftly  added 
his  kindling  and,  with  his  old  bellows,  soon  made  a  blaze. 
He  went  ahead  to  cook  breakfast  cheerfully.  He  had  a 
youthful  spirit  in  an  old  body,  which  brightened  the  bur- 
dens that  the  verdict  of  destiny  had  placed  upon  him.  He 
never  thought  of  the  trials  of  life.  He  ate,  drank,  and 
slept,  caring  but  little  for  laying  up  a  competence  for  fast 
approaching  old  age.  The  all-hurting  noon  sun  he  met 
when  compelled  to;  the  storm,  the  driving  rain,  he  avoided 
as  best  he  could,  caring  nothing  for  downpours;  and  dank 
night  dews  found  him  in  his  cabin  home  making  baskets 
for  pastime  and  profit.  Uncle  Joshua  was  what  was  called 
on  the  plantation  "a  longheaded  old  fellow."  He  had  his 
trout  scaled  and  sliced,  he  had  his  rabbit  skinned  and  quar- 
tered, and,  taking  a  pound  of  salted  fat  pork,  he  placed 
all  together  in  his  cooking  vessel,  which  was  about 
two-thirds  full  of  water.  The  boiling  pot,  suspended  from 
the  homely  crane,  filled  the  premises  with  an  agreeable 
odor  very  appetizing  to  a  hungry  stomach.  He  got  his 
flour  unbolted  (a  rare  dish)  and  his  meal,  and  mixing  with 
water  and  salt  and  lard  properly,  his  oven  being  well 
heated,  he  soon  had  his  bread  looking  brown.     The  pota- 


Uncle  Joshua  s  Wedding  249 

toes  had  already  been  roasted  in  the  ashes,  his  "city  coffee" 
from  New  Bern  was  crushed  in  his  oaken  mortar,  and  was 
soon  simmering  and  breakfast  was  about  ready  "on  de 
table  for  de  ladies."  He  knew  that  Abigail  and  Lizzette 
were  hungry,  and  he  was  anxious  that  they  should  have  their 
appetite  satisfied  to  the  full. 

Uncle  Joshua  knew  nothing  of  that  Dogger  Bank,  that 
peculiar  shoal  in  the  German  Ocean,  where  the  deep-sea 
fish  are  caught  for  the  epicurean  palates  of  London  gentry ; 
but  he  knew  where  he  could  set  his  net  and  soon  find  a 
silvery  mullet  and  a  speckled  trout  that  did  afford  to  the 
eye  an  aspect  of  beauty,  to  the  taste  a  honey  sweetness  un- 
surpassed even  in  gourmetry.  He  did  not  know  that  it 
took  fifty-eight  pieces  of  different  woods  to  make  the  finest 
fiddle,  but  he  did  know  that  the  birch  tree  and  the  white  oak 
furnished  him  even  splits  to  make  his  basketry,  which  was 
sought  for  by  even  the  city  people  of  New  Bern.  Uncle 
Joshua  was  alone — a  widower.  No  footfall's  sound  had 
greeted  his  return  homeward  for  many  long  months;  but 
now  a  woman  had  come.  The  advent  of  Abigail  was  to 
him  as  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  directly  from  the  abodes 
of  felicity.  A  woman!  How  sweetly  to  his  ears  sounded 
her  voice.  Being  young,  her  youthful  enthusiasm  was 
pleasing  to  him  who  was  touching  closely  three  score  and 
ten.  Her  suppleness  riveted  his  eye,  for  he  knew  age  was 
hardening  his  once  responsive  muscles.  He  had  not  for- 
gotten the  days  when  he  and  Bilhah  often  wrestled,  jumped 
and  raced  with  each  other,  how  she  followed  him  to  his 
seine,  and  brought  back  for  him  his  catch  from  his  traps — 
no,  but  she  was  gone.  She  had  not  passed  out  of  his  life — 
no,  but  from  it.  Here  was  a  niece  of  hers,  and  greatly 
resembled  her;  there  was  once  more  a  woman  in  the  house. 

When  Abigail  awoke  she  heard  a  fire  crackling,  soon 
there  was  pervading  the  house  the  odor  of  meat,  onions,  and 
flour.  Lizzette  lay  fast  asleep.  She  felt  that  she  ought  to 
get  up  and  help  Uncle  Joshua  get  breakfast. 


250  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Good  mornin',  Uncle  Joshuy." 

"Howdy  do?     Hope  you  slept  good?" 

"Yes,  sir.     Let  me  help." 

"No,  sissy,  I  will  get  through  soon;  the  rice  about  done." 

Abigail  felt  she  had  a  true  and  trusty  friend  in  this  man, 
and  her  heart  went  out  toward  him.  He  was  lonely,  child- 
less; she  was  lonely  and  husbandless,  and  felt  the  need  of 
a  friend.  She  was  only  thirty-nine.  Abigail  was  visited, 
and  she  visited  in  the  week's  time  she  knew  she  was  allowed 
to  rest  and  straighten  up.  As  was  the  case  on  every  planta- 
tion, a  newcomer  was  eyed,  guyed,  envied,  and  slandered ; 
yet  there  was  an  element  of  hospitality  in  the  better  class 
of  slaves,  and  they  opened  their  hearts  and  homes  to  the 
stranger.  Having  been  married,  she  knew  the  secrets  of 
marital  craft;  she  guarded  against  the  snares  about  her 
and  assumed  a  cold,  stern  manner  toward  the  opposite  sex, 
and  warmth  and  fondness  for  those  of  her  gender.  Her 
instinct  told  her  she  needed  to  fear  the  tongues  of  women. 
Her  kinspeople  were  kind,  and  by  their  counsels  she  ap- 
peared to  be  entirely  guided. 

Mr.  Fennell  had  received  from  Edenton  a  letter  directing 
him  to  allow  the  woman  a  week's  rest,  and  then  she  might 
become  a  char- woman;  and  at  once  to  commence  erecting 
a  house  for  her  and  the  children.  Uncle  Sol  was  carpenter 
and  cartwright. 

Samson  came  and  told  Abigail  the  house  would  be  ready 
in  a  few  days,  that  he  would  be  glad  for  her  to  get  away  to 
her  own  house.  Abigail  said  to  herself,  "I  don't  want  de 
house,  it  ain't  for  me." 

"I  tell  yer,  Cousin  'Bigail,  Uncle  Joshua's  ole  and  big- 
gity.  He's  going  to  be  a  lot  of  trouble  afore  long."  Abigail 
was  wishing  he  would  go  away.  She  had  made  up  her  mind 
to  palaver,  to  coquette  awhile,  and  she  calmly  said:  "In 
due  time  I'm  gwine  to  hitch  up  with  Uncle  Joshua,  and  all 
these  things  will  be  mine." 


Uncle  Joshua  s  Wedding  251 

Lizzette  and  Tasker  seemed  to  take  the  kindhearted  old 
man  as  a  matter  of  course.  Uncle  Joshua's  became  to  them 
like  their  own  home  and  they  acted  and  felt  free  and  easy  in 
his  presence.  They  smiled  at  Uncle  Joshua,  and  Uncle 
Joshua  smiled  at  them. 

About  ten  days  after  Abigail's  getting  to  Laurel  Ridge 
Mr.  Fennell  called  Uncle  Joshua  at  supper  time  and  told 
him  he  must  go  on  the  schooner  Bonny  Kate  to  New  Bern 
to  carry  hides,  tallow,  etc.,  and  bring  back  supplies.  He 
must  start  early  next  morning.  "We  must  make  ready  for 
the  coming  of  Mr.  Colmey." 

Uncle  Joshua,  sitting  in  the  firelight  of  the  chatwood  he 
had  carefully  gathered,  told  Abigail  that  people  got  lost  on 
the  big  waters,  that  he  might  never  get  back;  that  he  had 
no  children,  his  wife  dead,  and  he  wanted  her  to  have  his 
things  and  have  his  house  if  he  never  returned.  He  then 
showed  her  how  to  go  up  to  the  "loft,"  how  to  lift  the  trap- 
door and  handle  the  small  ladder.  He  told  her  he  had  meat 
and  flour  up  there,  and  all  his  wife's  clothes  and  all  his 
belongings.  He  then  went  out  and  walked  around  the 
house  to  see  if  any  one  was  eavesdropping,  and  came  back 
and  prized  up  the  hearthstone  and  lifted  up  a  small  leather 
bag  of  money  of  about  twenty  dollars  in  silver  and  about 
five  in  coppers.  He  put  his  bull-eyed  watch  in  and  shut 
down  the  stronghold.     "I  jest  wanted  yer  to  know  it." 

Next  morning  Abigail  got  to  thinking  seriously  about 
Uncle  Joshua.  He  had  virtually  given  her  everything  if 
he  was  lost.  She  had  never  had  so  much  money.  The 
house  was  well  arranged,  the  outhouse  for  cooking  and 
washing  was  well  put  together,  and  the  spring  was  near  by. 
She  saw  he  was  cleanly  and  careful,  kept  wood  at  the  house, 
brought  all  the  water;  in  a  word,  Uncle  Joshua  was  the 
best  all-around  man  she  had  ever  been  associated  with. 
She  remembered  Manuel.  He  was  a  cousin  of  hers,  good- 
natured,  improvident,  cared  only  for  today.  She  felt  justi- 
fied in  sitting  down  and  calculating  her  chances.     Women 


252  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

white  as  snow  and  women  black  as  coal  are  deeper,  closer 
thinkers,  calculators,  than  men  think  they  are. 

Uncle  Joshua  at  the  appointed  time  came  back  and  Abi- 
gail had  provided  for  him  a  full,  wholesome  dinner, 
Abigail  had  thought  over  the  matter  that  might  come  up  for 
her  consideration;  she  felt  that  a  proposal  was  in  the  air, 
and  had  made  up  her  mind.  Sunday  morning  Uncle 
Joshua  said  "  'Bigail,  I'm  ole  and  fractious.  Fse  done 
and  got  whar  Fse  feeble;  won't  you  lib  wid  me,  'Bigail?" 
Abigail  was  keen-eared,  but  of  course  she  did  not  hear  the 
remark.     "  'Bigail,  doan't  yer  hear  me?" 

"Say  on,  Uncle  Joshua." 

"  'Bigail,  won't  you  have  me  and  be  mine?" 

"Now  jest  listen  to  you,  Uncle  Joshua;  you  oughter  be 
'shamed  of  yerself,  talking  to  me  like  dat.  You  knows  you 
ought  ter,  an'  me  a  lone  widder." 

Uncle  Joshua  arose.  "Good-by,  'Bigail.  I'se  struck 
the  wrong  track." 

"What  do  yer  mean,  Uncle  Joshua?  Sit  down;  what's 
your  hurry?" 

"Fse  goin'  away,  goin'  to  de  upper  plantation  to  lib — 
God  knows!" 

"What,  Uncle  Joshua,  you  ain't  ter  go?     Stay  here." 

"Well,  will  you  stay  here  wid  me?" 

"0,  Uncle  Joshua,  you  do  worry  me  so;  you  shure  does." 

"  'Bigail—" 

"Hush!  not  a  'nother  word.  You's  done  and  heard  me. 
Yer  knows  how  I  feel  towards  you,  you  do." 

Colmey,  after  his  many  adventures,  landed  back  at 
Laurel  Ridge  safely  Wednesday  about  dark.  Next  morn- 
ing, going  down  to  the  stable,  Uncle  Joshua  called  to  him, 
"Marse  Jean,  after  Fse  made  my  'bedience  to  ye,  I  wants 
to  ask  you  to  let  me  marry  'Bigail." 

"What?     Is  she  willing?" 

"I'se  done  put  it  right  up  ter  her." 

"All  right,  Uncle  Joshua." 


Uncle  Joshua  s  Wedding  253 

"Marse  Jean,  I  wants  a  little  pig  for  de  'casion." 

"Yes,  yes,  you  can  have  one." 

"Marse  Jean,  I'se  ready  fer  the  pig  right  now." 

"Mr.  Fennell,  go  with  Uncle  Joshua  and  help  him  select 
a  nice  pig." 

On  getting  to  the  piggery,  Uncle  Joshua  said,  "Boss,  I 
wants  dat  fat  spotted  shote." 

"Uncle  Joshua,  he's  too  big  and  too  fat." 

"No,  boss,  dat  shote  is  jes  de  size  I  wants." 

"Uncle  Joshua,  you  said  a  little  pig." 

"Yes,  boss,  but  I'se  done  and  change  my  mine." 

Late  that  evening  Uncle  Joshua  went  to  the  great  house 
and  called,  "Marse  Jean,  won't  you  come  to  my  weddin'?" 

"Yes,  Uncle  Joshua,  I  will;  but  don't  get  too  kicksy- 
wicksy,  old  fellow." 

"I'se  done  put  de  white  spread  on  de  bed,  and  it  is  done 
and  shuk  down,  and  all  is  ready,  boss,  for  de  ceremony." 

"You  have?" 

"Nothin'  more  ter  do  now  but  barbecue  de  pig  and  ole 
Preacher  Silas  to  say  de  word." 

The  shoat  had  been  slaughtered,  scalded,  haired,  and 
hung  upon  the  gallows.  The  "lights  and  chitterlings"  had 
been  looked  after  and  the  body  inside  and  out  had  been 
repeatedly  flushed  with  hot  water.  Uncle  Joshua  was  de- 
lighted. He  sidled  up  to  Abigail  and  said,  '  'Bigail, 
honey,  when  the  liver  and  de  lights,  wid  de  pepper  and  de 
salt,  is  done  a  bilin',  and  when  we  sets  down  and  goes  to 
eatin' — don'  yer  know,  honey,  it  will  tas'  good?" 

"0,  Uncle  Joshuy,  fer  the  Lord's  sake  hush  yer  mouth." 

"Now,  'Bigail,  when  we'se  done  and  married,  and  when 
I'se  done  kissin'  and  bussin'  you,  you'll  never  say  Uncle 
Joshuy  again,  but  you  allers  say  darlin'." 

"Fer  de  gracious  sake,  shet  yer  mouth.  I  'spise  sech 
talk,  I  do." 

Uncle  Joshua  walked  away,  chuckling,  and  said  to  him- 
self, "I'm  going  ter  'stonish  dat  ole  gal." 


254  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Abigail  was  busy  ironing  her  wedding  garments.  She 
simpered  and  said  in  semi-tones,  "De  sassy  ole  rascal. 
I'll  show  him;  he  has  a  mighty  roguish  eye.  Fer  a  fact, 
I  really  do  feel  'er  little  tickilish.  Yes,  he  said  a  kissin' 
and  a  bussin'  me.  I'm  agoin'  to  tell  him  no,  I  am.  He 
may  beg." 

Abigail  was  happier  than  she  had  been  in  many  months. 
She  poked  her  mouth  out  to  hide  a  smile  and  kept  on  iron- 
ing and  thinking  of  Uncle  Joshua. 


XLI 


THE  COMING  REVOLUTION 

"O  God!  that  one  might  read  the  book  of  fate 
And  see  the  revolution  of  the  times,  how  chances  mock, 
And  changes  fill  the  cup  of  alteration." 

Since  Shakespeare  has  fallen  asleep  the  two  great  master- 
minds in  the  English  party  were  John  Milton  and  John 
Dryden.  Milton,  even  under  stress  of  circumstances  and 
war,  held  to  the  lofty  and  the  pure.  Dryden,  having  been 
raised  to  look  upon  the  gay  cavalier  with  suspicion,  when 
he  awoke  to  the  tremendous  possibilities  within  him  and 
had  contracted  an  unfortunate  marriage,  let  loose  all  the 
baser  parts  of  his  nature  and  affected  conceits,  jeered  at 
religion,  and  played  to  the  cockpit  for  money  and  notoriety. 

Milton  and  Dryden,  like  all  men  of  sense  and  sagacity, 
felt  that  it  was  best,  all  in  all,  to  obey  and  try  to  induce 
others  to  uphold  the  authorities  legally  in  power;  that  if 
the  laws  are  trodden  under  foot,  life,  and  property,  and  the 
purity  of  womanhood  will  be  seriously  endangered. 

The  terrible  results  of  the  civil  war  between  King 
Charles  and  Cromwell  had  brought  about  such  convulsions 
that  all  feared  a  repetition.  All  thoughtful  men  of  the  age 
felt  intuitively  that  the  world  was  taking  on  a  change. 
Now,  why  these  changes  come,  the  Allwise  One  only  knows. 
They  unconsciously  recognized  the  fact  that  subtle  currents 
were  permeating  the  Empire's  social  and  political  fabric. 
The  great  masses  of  people  all  over  Britain  were  tired  of 
the  endless  changes,  that  heady  and  designing  demagogues 
were  craftily  leading  the  people  by  constant  agitations  that 
they  might  play  the  role  of  leaders.  The  people  commenced 

255 


256  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

to  long  for  the  security  of  property  and  life,  that  good  laws 
and  courts  presided  over  by  fair-minded  judges  afforded 
best  protection.  They  wanted  more  of  Milton  and  less  of 
Dryden.  They  came  to  admire  the  moral  beauty  of  Mil- 
ton's writings,  his  fearless  contempt  for  the  vulgar  mob. 
Today  they  are  fervent  followers  of  Watt  Tyler,  the  black- 
smith; tomorrow,  loyal  liegemen  of  King  Richard,  their 
lawful  sovereign. 

Lord  Essex  died  a  suicide  in  1680,  and  soon  after  Rus- 
sell had  his  head  cut  off  in  front  of  his  father's  mansion. 
Sedition,  scheming,  and  lawlessness  had  had  its  day.  The 
Welsh  insurgents,  the  thousands  for  home  rule  and  for 
Scotland  to  be  ruled  at  home  by  Scotchmen,  the  Irish  ever 
eager  to  better  themselves,  but  without  a  sagacious  leader, 
England  in  turmoil,  war  and  confusion;  and  when  Crom- 
well went  to  sleep  to  awake  no  more  in  16 — ,  the  whole  of 
Britain  felt  that,  although  he  was  a  great  leader,  a  martial 
genius,  a  sagacious  statesman,  yet,  for  all  that,  England, 
Scotland,  Wales,  and  Ireland,  with  few  exceptions,  pre- 
ferred royalty  to  democracy,  and  a  crown  to  a  plebian 
ruler.  The  Briton,  surrounded  by  the  nobility,  pleased 
with  the  exhibitions  of  wealth,  style,  and  culture  of  the 
aristocracy,  enthused  by  the  songs  and  party  of  the  times, 
the  glories  of  the  wars  of  Henry  and  Edward,  and  the  re- 
membrance of  the  irreproachable  kingly  life  of  Alfred, 
had  made  the  British  loyal  to  the  Crown  against  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  any  tide  of  the  times. 

The  death  of  Cromwell  struck  a  death-knell  to  republi- 
canism in  England  and  Wales,  and  the  hasty  flight  of  such 
men  as  Penn  and  the  Puritans  left  the  people  alone,  and 
time  to  look  at  the  new  proposition  intelligently.  They 
found  on  examination  that  one  extreme,  popery,  did  not 
suit  them,  and  the  other  extreme,  democracy,  was  to  be 
likewise  avoided.  In  about  1683  Monmouth,  the  once 
favorite  and  leader,  took  wings  and  sought  an  asylum  be- 
yond the  heaving  seas.    The  desperate  spirits  that  remained 


The  Coming  Revolution  257 

behind  kept  hid  in  the  most  secret  parts  of  the  city  of 
London,  and  spent  their  time  and  their  hate  in  laying  plots 
for  assassinations  against  the  King  and  all  rulers  and  all 
law-abiding  people,  because  they  were  not  of  their  kidney 
and  their  thinking.  England  wanted  freedom,  but  not 
brutal  license;  the  Empire  demanded  liberty,  but  founded 
on  a  constitutional  monarchical  dynasty. 

In  America  the  great  majority  of  the  people  were  loyal 
to  the  Crown  for  nearly  a  century.  Such  restless  spirits 
as  Hancock  and  Adams,  having  heard  of  the  wrong  done  a 
century  ago,  from  their  childhood;  such  farsighted  men  as 
Jefferson,  Macon,  Patrick  Henry,  and  Willie  Jones,  having 
read  the  histories  of  the  past  of  Athens  and  Rome,  were 
imbued  with  an  elevating  fancy  of  the  imagination  that  in 
America  there  might  be  established  a  genuine  republic  far 
away  from  monarchy,  and  surrounded  by  the  tempestuous 
sides  of  the  Atlantic.  Adams  and  Jefferson  dreamed  their 
dreams,  and  when  the  culmination  was  reached  and  inde- 
pendence declared,  Washington  and  Caswell  led  the  way 
to  victory. 

The  two  provinces  had  been  established,  all  north  of  the 
Santee  was  called  North  Carolina.  That  valuable  article 
of  food,  rice,  that  had  been  brought  in  a  vessel  from  Mada- 
gascar, had  become  a  staple  of  great  value  in  both  prov- 
inces, especially  South  Carolina.  When  getting  to  be  many 
slaves,  trails  gave  way  to  better  roads.  Negroes  and  many 
Indians  had  been  made  slaves  and  kept  in  subjection  to  the 
whites.  The  North  Carolina  colony  was  moving  up,  but 
was  trammeled  by  the  statesmanship  of  Virginia.  Even 
Jefferson  was  opposed  to  North  Carolina's  assuming  the 
full  stature  of  colonyhood  until  he  became  satisfied  that 
the  interests  of  Virginia  would  in  no  wise  be  affected. 
Courts  of  justice  were  now  established  in  the  districts  of 
Edenton,  New  Bern,  Wilmington,  Halifax,  and  Salisbury. 
Governor  Dobbs  had  died  at  his  seat  on  Town  Creek.  Gov- 
ernor William  Tryon  qualified  in  1765  as  Commander-in- 

17 


258  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Chief  of  the  Province  of  North  Carolina.  He  was  a  man 
of  action  and  foresight,  but  was  too  inclined  to  be  over- 
bearing and  oppressive.  The  Regulators  vexed  his  high 
spirit,  and  he  summoned  Caswell  and  Ashe  to  assist  him  in 
quelling  the  spirit  of  resistance  and  defiance,  that  the  laws 
must  be  upheld  and  respected.  Caswell  and  Ashe  gave 
their  hearty  support,  and  are  classed  as  patriots  and  good 
citizens  by  all  good  people.  There  were  no  abettors  of 
Cary,  and  Quakers  then  and  there  to  arouse  malice  and 
contention  over  the  laws  being  upheld  when  the  lives  of 
white  men  and  women  were  at  stake.  Husbands  and 
Hunter  in  1768  were  leaders.  King  Blount  and  other 
Indians  were  in  1711.  One  uprising  was  for  fair  trial  and 
fair  taxation  in  1768,  the  other  for  the  annihilation  of  the 
whites  in  1711. 

The  Province  was  suspicious  of  rulers.  They  had  fled 
from  other  sections  to  the  cool  glades  of  Carolina  for  free- 
dom of  thought  and  action.  Among  a  people  like  this,  the 
low  demagogue  had  ready  listeners.  Like  unto  the  scene 
in  Tacitus.  The  name  of  oppressor  was  so  hateful  to 
Carolinians  that,  being  so  often  without  courts  and  judges 
or  clergymen  (see  Colonial  Records,  Vol.  I,  page  868), 
they,  without  intelligently  considering  the  facts  in  the  case, 
at  times  flew  into  a  passion  and  resorted  to  force  to  remove 
an  obnoxious  governmental  official.  Further,  why  North 
Carolina  should  present  the  peculiar  spectacle  of  a  large, 
liberty-loving  province,  selecting  men  born  and  raised  out- 
side her  boundaries  to  be  her  chief  and  particular  repre- 
sentatives at  the  now  approaching  momentous  sittings  of  the 
Continental  Congress,  was  a  grosse  tete  et  per  desens. 

Mark  you,  this  will  never  happen  again  in  this  Common- 
wealth of  brave,  high-spirited  people. 

North  Carolina  had  men  of  decided  talent,  of  high  ideals 
and  lofty  aspirations.  Why  take  men  born  outside  of  her 
colonial  limits?  Her  soldiers,  her  own  children,  marched 
and  battled  at  Camden,  in  South  Carolina,  Yorktown,  in 


The  Coming  Revolution  259 

Virginia,  Brandywine,  in  Pennsylvania,  and  elsewhere. 
They  fought  and  suffered,  and  other  states  serenely  claimed 
all  the  military  glory.  Sooner  or  later  there  will  come  an 
awakening!  What  has  been  done  can  be  done.  The  Hor- 
nets' Nest  and  not  the  Dove  will  be  her  State  crest.  Let 
North  Carolinians  be  our  leaders.  There  is  a  gale  going 
from  the  ocean  to  the  mountains,  there  is  a  gale  coming 
from  the  mountains  to  the  sea — "until  the  day  break  and 
the  shadows  flee  away."  The  full  cornucopia  should  be 
companioned  by  a  well-loaded  cannon.  There  is  nothing 
so  strong  as  truth,  nothing  so  bright  as  the  mind.  Yes,  the 
eager  eye  will  see  blended — yes,  ushered  in — a  recognition 
of  the  phenomenal  productivity  of  the  seaboard  section, 
the  possibilities  of  the  piedmont  infinitum,  and  the  avowed 
salubrity  and  the  calm  grandeur  of  the  mighty  mountain 
ranges  of  our  Carolina.  The  morning  light  is  breaking, 
and  may  "the  stone  become  a  great  mountain." 


XLII 


FULBERT  MANOR 

"God  is  our  fortress,  in  whose  conquering  name, 
Let  us  resolve  to  scale  their  flinty  bulwarks." 

The  health  of  Mrs.  Colmey  seemed  to  be  better  at  Fulbert 
Manor  than  at  Laurel  Ridge,  and  the  removal  to  the  Manor 
was  made  to  satisfy  his  wife's  wishes. 

Colmey  sat  upon  the  broad-fronted  portico  alone,  a 
widower.  The  cool  breath  from  the  river,  the  beautiful 
azure  sky  in  the  distance,  could  not  quiet  his  tumultuous 
feelings.  A  kaleidoscope  of  the  past  came  vividly  before 
him.  He  remembered  the  varied  fortunes  of  Kong-helle. 
His  very  soul  quivered  with  mortal  dread  when  he  thought 
of  his  miraculous  escape  from  the  churning  waters  off 
Swansboro.  He  remembered  with  silent  pleasure  the  horse- 
race at  Halifax  with  Boiling,  and  the  fair  face  of  May 
Montfort  came  up  before  him,  and  he  wondered  if  she  was 
living  unwon.  He  thought  that  long  ago  she  had  become 
the  wife  of  Tom  Boiling.  He  sadly  thought  of  his  fond 
wife,  asleep  beneath  the  greenwood  trees — the  mother  of 
his  children.  His  memory  went  back  to  his  last  visit  to 
"King  Arthur's  Seat,"  on  Edinburgh's  high  hill.  And  now, 
looming  up  in  horrid  colors,  a  revolution,  a  war  between 
brethren.  Great  Britain  demanded  loyalty  and  obedience 
to  her  tax  measures,  and  America  rebelled  and  refused. 
Upon  which  side  shall  he  draw  his  sword?  He  had  been 
taught  to  shout  for  king  and  country!  He  asked  himself, 
"Dare  I  forget  the  traditions  of  my  family?"  Shall  the 
sword  found  at  Dumchorter  Pass,  "De  Erlon,"  flash  in  the 
battle  light  again?     He  remembered  the  bloody  rout  at 

260 


Fulbert  Manor  261 

Culloden  with  a  sigh.  He  recollected  Prince  Charlie's  sad 
face  as  he  fell  back  in  defeat.  He  determined  to  side  with 
his  native  land,  cast  his  fortune  with  the  American  patriots. 
"If  I  am  to  live  in  America,  I  must  stand  for  American 
principles."  He  had  not  been  reconciled  to  the  repulse, 
the  heart  scare,  the  body  punishment  in  the  retreat  and 
mind  anguish  before  his  escape  from  Scotland.  He  felt 
that  the  old  scar  sore  should  be  healed  by  another  appeal  to 
the  sword.  The  days  of  his  young  manhood  came  up 
slowly  before  him!  softly  in  his  ears  he  heard  the  birds  of 
Ae-Engus-Everyoung — singing,  calling  to  him,  "Come, 
come,  to  happy  Strathspey.    Come  and  stay!" 

Colmey's  commission  of  captaincy  forced  upon  him  to 
seriously  consider  what  to  do  with  his  children,  his  property 
and  a  few  precious  heirlooms  left  him  by  his  father  and 
his  mother.  The  care  and  use  of  some  of  them  by  his  lost 
companion,  one  who  ever  felt  a  feeling  of  force  to  help 
him  in  his  purpose  and  smiled  upon  him  when  he  was  sad; 
especially  his  mother's  old  rock-crystal  salts  bottle  in  silver 
holder,  his  mother's  Bohemian  glass  perfume  bottle,  deli- 
cately edged  with  silver  bands;  yes,  and  the  prized  hand 
mirror  so  convenient  for  use,  A-Lalique,  mounted  in  gray- 
colored  glass,  how  passionately  precious  to  him,  those  his 
wife  held  in  sacred  estimate  and  safely  kept.  His  children 
he  would  place  with  his  friend  Thompson,  install  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Lancaster,  a  good,  honest  man  with  a  wife  (no  chil- 
dren) in  his  home,  to  look  after  his  effects.  Going  among 
his  slaves,  praising  their  past  faithfulness  to  his  family,  and 
appointing  one  of  their  number  to  be  their  head  and  direc- 
tor, he  ordered  them  to  pay  all  due  respect,  and  to  assist 
when  asked  by  the  party  he  would  leave  in  charge  of  the 
mansion  and  the  grounds.  Then,  asking  Jehovah's  bene- 
diction upon  his  children,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  task 
his  commission  required  of  him. 

The  sale  of  a  slave  was  forbidden — never  to  be  departed 
from — and  the  slaves  were  as  much  a  fixture  as  the  river 


262  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

and  the  lands  were,  and  an  interdependency  was  felt  by 
master  and  slave  like  unto  acre  to  acre  that  held  together 
comprised  the  acreage  known  and  named  Laurel  Ridge. 

The  Mecklenburg  declaration  at  Charlotte  met  a  ready 
response  at  Halifax,  Edenton,  New  Bern,  and  Wilmington, 
the  echo  reaching  Williamsburg,  Philadelphia,  and  Boston, 
and  down  the  lines  to  Charleston.  This  ready  response  of 
the  people  to  the  call  to  arms  made  disappear  all  traces  of 
union  between  the  colonies  and  Britain.  War  was  declared. 
Captain  Colmey  was  authorized  to  raise  a  company  of  one 
hundred  men  to  watch  and  harass  the  enemy.  His  de- 
partment was  from  Town  Creek  to  Swansboro.  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  was  determined  to  march  to  Halifax  so  he  could  be 
in  touch  with  the  royal  forces  in  Virginia,  and  he  made 
preparations  for  same.  Captain  Colmey  was  to  hang  on 
his  rear,  cut  off  supplies,  kill  his  marauders,  and  capture 
ammunition.  On  the  18th  of  February,  1776,  Captain 
Colmey  was  ordered  to  report  to  General  Caswell,  near 
Moore's  Bridge. 

"Tasker,  you  must  stay  here  and  look  after  things  while 
I  am  away.     I  would  feel  safe  knowing  you  were  at  home." 

"Marse  Jean,  I  longs  to  go." 

"No,  Tasker,  I  will  take  Tom  or  Bristow  to  do  the  cook- 
ing and  cleaning  up,  and  Remo  will  look  after  the  horses 
and  my  accoutrements." 

"Marse  Jean,  let  Tasker  go,  too.  I  wouldn't  give  him 
for  both  Tom  and  Bristow.  Marse  Jean,  I  will  cook,  I  will 
do  anything,  so  I  can  go,  too." 

"No,  Tasker,  you  can't  both  go." 

"Please,  Marse  Jean,  let  Task  go,  and  then  I  will  be  so 
mighty  glad  to  have  along  my  ole  pardner." 

"Tasker,  get  ready,  select  a  horse.  Remo  at  his  best  is 
a  marplot  and  forever  putting  his  mouth  where  it  is  not 
wanted  and  where  he  has  no  business." 

"Marse  Jean!" 

"Shut  your  mouth,  Remo — not  another  word."     Remo 


Fulbert  Manor  263 

looked  at  Tasker  as  much  as  to  say,  "Mum,  Tasker!    Don't 
you  say  a  word,  he's  hot  in  the  collar — sh!" 

Colmey  walked  away.  Both  of  the  servants  chuckled 
and  then  laughed  outright.  "Fore  God,  Remo,  I  tells  you 
a  fact,  youse  got  er  head  on  yer  shoulders,  you  shore  has." 

"Youse  right,  Task,  for  I  stands  mighty  high  with  Marse 
Jean.  Tom  and  Bristow,  Task,  won't  do,  has  no  quality 
about  'em  like  we  have — no.  Marse  Jean  don't  know, 
Task,  how  'shamed  I'd  be  of  dem  niggers." 

"Remo,  a  common  hand  han't  no  business  to  follow  his 
master  to  war;  he  ought  ter  take  de  quality  wid  him." 

"Well,  Task,  Marse  Jean  is  always  right  'cept  in  dis 
particular,  for  Tom  and  Bristow  ain't  in  line  with  us,  and 
they  can't  come  de  difference — no.  You  see,  Task,  Marse 
Jean  didn't  think."  Tasker  looked  at  Remo  with  admira- 
tion blended  with  envy. 

Colmey  gave  a  letter  to  Tasker  to  carry  to  the  overseer 
at  Laurel  Ridge  to  allow  him  to  have  a  good  horse  to  ride 
and  carry  baggage  on  him  if  necessary,  as  he  had  deter- 
mined to  take  Tasker  with  him.  Now,  the  overseer  had  a 
horse  that  he  would  be  glad  to  have  gone,  and  now  was  his 
chance.  The  horse  was  about  ten  years  old,  sound  of  wind, 
strong  and  healthy,  but  Sir  Roger  was  an  old,  hardened 
sinner.  He  had  an  inveterate  vice,  being  tricky  at  slipping 
his  bridle  or  halter  and  galloping  back  to  the  stables — the 
curses  of  the  overseer  following  him  as  he  sped  on  his  way. 
Many  sure-to-break  rules  had  been  tried  on  him  to  make 
him  give  up  his  objectionable  habit;  but  oh,  no!  He  was 
a  most  valuable  horse  as  a  saddler  and  time-maker,  but  for 
honest,  everyday  work  on  the  farm,  he  just  wouldn't. 

"I  see,  Task,  you've  got  back.  Goin'  to  ride  him? 
That's  the  overseer's  hoss,  for  I  seen  him  on  him." 

"Yes,  but  you  see  me  on  him  now." 

"When  Marse  Jean  sees  you  he'll  tell  you  sumpin'." 

"Tell  what?" 

"Carry  him  back,  you  wall-eyed  fool — that's  what." 


264  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Yes,  but  pard,  you  sees  whose  got  him  now." 

"I  thought  you  had  picked  out  old  Dahlia?" 

"Yes,  but  my  mind  changed,  and  I  took  this  feller." 

"Well,  Tasker,  have  you  made  your  selection?" 

"Yes,  sir,  Marse  Jean." 

"All  right,  you  have  made  a  good  selection.  I  bought 
him  in  New  Bern.  He  is  a  Virginia  horse.  He  is  a  com- 
bination saddler — he  won't  pull  a  cart  or  plough;  he  takes 
to  water  like  a  spaniel,  and  was  never  known  to  be  gun-shy. 
Mr.  Fennell  was  perfectly  willing,  was  he?" 

"Yes,  sir,  Marse  Jean;  he's  my  horse,  ain't  he." 

"Yes,  and  take  good  care  of  Sir  Roger." 

"There,  now,  Remo,  you  sees  I  have  got  de  fine  buckskin 
saddler  for  mine." 

"That  ole  horse  is  like  you;  he's  nothin'." 

"Nigger,  youse  done  jealous  a'reddy;  but  Sir  Roger  is  a 
better  horse  than  yer  cat-hammed  ole  Dundee." 

"That's  a  lie,  and  you  knows  it." 

"Remo,  I  likes  you  mightily,  but  don't  you  throw  yer 
sass  on  me." 

"I'll  do  it,  and  whale  hell  outen  you,  too." 

"You,  Remo!" 

"Sir?" 

As  Tasker  led  away  his  horse  he  mumbled,  "I  reckon  de 
black  rascal  will  shet  his  big  mouf  now;  I  was  ready  for 
him."  Colmey's  voice  stayed  off  a  rough  and  tumble 
fight,  for  Remo  was  most  unreasonably  jealous  of  any 
attention  his  master  paid  to  Tasker.  Remo  was  very  proud 
of  his  horse,  Dundee,  a  bright  bay,  and  felt  that  his  horse 
was  slandered,  to  be  compared  to  that  "buckskin"  just 
from  Laurel  Ridge.  He  thought  it  quite  the  thing  to  do 
for  his  master  to  give  him  Dundee,  but  it  was  a  crying  out- 
rage to  give  Tasker  Sir  Roger.  Colmey  made  it  convenient 
to  remain  near  Remo  until  he  was  certain  Remo  had  cooled 
off,  and  that  he  would  not  follow  up  Tasker.  In  two  hours 
they  were  both  as  good  friends  as  ever.     Tasker's  very  soul 


Fulbert  Manor  265 

rejoiced  to  hear  his  master  speak  in  that  sharp,  decisive 
tone.     It  meant  instant  obedience  or  certain  punishment. 

"Remo!" 

"Sir?" 

"I  want  two  extra  horses.  Merlin  may  get  hurt,  and 
then  I  would  be  in  need.  You  go  and  get  me  Black  Prince 
and  look  up  another." 

"Marse  Jean,  take  High  Bolt.  He's  the  horse  you  rode 
last  spring  to  New  Bern." 

"Oh,  yes,  he  is  a  dapple  brown,  gray  muzzle,  two  hind 
feet  white.  Oh,  yes,  I  had  forgotten  that  horse ;  and,  Remo, 
a  brown,  as  a  rule,  is  a  good  horse." 

"Yes,  sir,  he  is  a  saddler — right  he  is." 

"Remo,  go  to  Laurel  Ridge  after  him,  and  put  Black 
Prince  in  the  stall  next  to  Merlin.  Remo,  I  want  you  to 
let  up  in  your  jealousy  toward  Tasker,  or  I  will  have  Bris- 
tow  to  go  with  me  in  his  stead." 

"La,  Marse  Jean,  don't  do  that,  for  I  do  'spise  that  nigger 
Bristow." 

"I  want  Merlin  and  Black  Prince  to  get  used  to  each 
other." 

"Marse  Jean,  Merlin  won't  even  look  at  dat  horse;  but 
la,  me,  just  lead  by  his  stable  Florimel  or  Katydid,  and 
such  capers  Merlin  cuts  up  is  scandalous." 

Remo  had  him  a  new  Dundee.  Tasker  had,  after  much 
looking  over,  selected  for  his  horse  Sir  Roger,  a  tawny 
buckskin,  ten  years  old,  compactly  built,  perfectly  gentle, 
and  tough  as  an  Indian  pony.  The  roads  were  bad,  no 
bridges,  rough  trails  and  deep  streams  to  cross,  and  he  was 
to  carry  on  his  broad  back  extra  blankets,  soaps,  towels, 
etc.,  for  Marse  Jean,  and  Tasker  hid  in  his  belongings 
things  which  he  did  not  want  Marse  Jean  to  see. 

The  plantation  was  all  alive  to  the  fact  that  Remo  and 
Tasker  were  picked  out  to  go  to  the  war  with  Marse  Jean, 
and  the  common  hands  looked  upon  them  as  blessed  by  the 
fairies  of  the  air.     Tasker  would  hardly  notice  the  corn- 


266  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

field  hands.  The  negro,  a  full-blood,  has  but  little  settled 
revenge,  no  constancy  of  purpose,  some  gratitude,  no  con- 
victions of  morality.  The  discomforts,  physical,  mental, 
or  emotional,  are  treated  heroically  by  the  Indian,  but  the 
negro  wails  and  laments  unconsolably.  The  Indian  is  by 
nature  an  Erunco,  the  negro  naturally  an  Esurio;  both 
oblivious  to  the  trammels  of  civilization,  yet  in  many  par- 
ticulars they  are  much  alike.  Both  arrogative  and  reli- 
gious, both  immoral,  both  children  of  nature  in  deed  and 
in  truth,  both  superstitious,  both  believe  in  spells,  both 
have  a  heart  hankering  after  the  unreasonable,  the  impossi- 
ble. Each  places  cunning  alongside  of  wisdom,  cruelty 
the  same  as  courage,  and  wealth  with  boasting.  The  In- 
dian, unlike  the  negro,  is  proud,  stoical,  self-reliant,  and 
resistant.  He  never  forgets  a  favor,  he  never  forgives  an 
injury.  He  will  willingly  go  to  war  to  drive  out  his  tribe's 
competitors  or  enemies,  he  will  sacrifice  himself  for  his 
offspring,  and  he  will  bear  up  under  any  amount  of  suffer- 
ing to  prove  that  he  is  worthy  to  be  called  and  ranked  as  a 
brave.  The  negro  lives  today,  and  with  his  appetite  satis- 
fied, childlike  and  dependent,  tomorrow  by  him  is  un- 
thought  of. 


XLIII 


MOORE'S  BRIDGE  BATTLE 

"In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility, 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger." 

General  Caswell  and  some  officers  were  sitting  in  front 
of  his  tent,  discussing  the  late  battle.  The  Moore's  Bridge 
fight  had  been  fought  and  won  by  American  troops,  and 
what  was  termed  by  the  British  as  "testy  rebel  infantry 
farmers."  There  was  great  exultation  in  Cas- 
well's camp,  and  men  were  congratulating  one  another  on 
their  bravery  and  victory.  A  messenger  from  headquar- 
ters in  Virginia  rode  up  and  inquired  for  General  Caswell. 

"Gentlemen,  I  am  Captain  Boiling,  with  dispatches." 

"Dismount,  Captain.  Here,  orderly!  Come,  Captain, 
be  seated,  please.  When  you  return  you  can  carry  glad 
tidings.  The  victory  was  complete,  and  what  filled  me 
with  joy  was  to  see  our  men  face  up  against  the  British  and 
time's  war-proof  troops.  I  hope,  Captain  Boiling,  you  left 
all  in  good  shape." 

"Fairly  so,  sir,  but  our  people  need  victories;  and  from 
the  field  I  judge  you  had  a  stubborn  fight." 

'Twas  so,  and,  Colonel  Lillington,  did  you  see  Captain 
Colmey  charge  their  flank  so  I  could  assail  their  tete  de 
pont?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  it  was  handsomely  done;  and  right  behind 
him  giving  support  was  Captain  Rutledge  of  South 
Carolina." 

"General,  I  was  a  little  surprised  at  Colmey's  coming 
out  for  the  Colonies." 

267 


268  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Well,  yes;  but  the  younger  men  will  come  if  the  older 
remain  neutral.  The  younger  are  thirsty  for  adventure; 
war  appeals  to  young  manhood." 

"General,  did  I  hear  you  mention  the  names  of  Rutledge 
and  Colmey?    Would  it  be  convenient  for  me  to  see  them?" 

"Yes,  Rutledge  is  here,  camping  over  there  with  Colmey. 
Lieutenant,  please  go  over  and  give  my  compliments  to 
Captains  Rutledge  and  Colmey  and  ask  them  to  come  and 
dine  with  us." 

The  meeting  of  the  two  friends  was  most  cordial. 

"Tom  Boiling,  my  old  chum  of  William  and  Mary,  or  I 
am  a  Tory.  The  first  time  I  have  seen  you  since  we  parted 
at  Petersburg." 

"Boiling,  this  is  my  friend,  Jean  Colmey,  and  a  mate  of 
mine  once  upon  a  time  at  Glasgow." 

"Yes.  Once  upon  a  time  Captain  Colmey  and  I  met  at  a 
horse  race  in  Halifax.  I  hope  you  recollect  that  pleasant 
episode,  Captain." 

"Yes,  sir,  and  pleasantly  so;  very  glad  to  see  you." 

"Have  you  heard  lately  of  Thompson  and  Cousin 
Carrie?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  I  am  glad  to  report  that  they  are  well  and 
doing  well." 

"Captain  Colmey,  our  friends  in  old  Halifax  are  pros- 
perous as  ever.  I  called  and  took  dinner  at  Montfort,  and 
I  can  truly  say  Miss  May  is  wonderfully  well  preserved 
and  still  unmarried." 

Colmey  felt  a  weight  pass  away  from  his  heart.  What! 
May  Montfort  unmarried?  He  asked  himself,  "I  wonder 
does  she  ever  think  of  me?" 

At  dinner  General  Caswell  proved  to  be  a  genial  host, 
full  of  hospitality. 

General  Caswell  sat  smiling — carefully  dressed.  He 
paid  so  much  attention  to  his  toilet  some  called  him  Dandy 
Dick.  With  him  was  sitting  Captain  DeLacy.  His  staff 
was  away  on  errands  and  to  gather  intelligence. 


Moore  s  Bridge  Battle  269 

"DeLacy,  now  by  the  goodly  Saint  Benedict,  the  patron 
saint  of  our  Carolina,  our  hopes  have  their  full  answer. 
The  enemy  is  beaten,  and  from  seaport  to  mountain  crest 
our  people  will  be  encouraged  to  strike  for  liberty.  De- 
Lacy, I  am  anxious  for  you  to  meet  some  of  my  most  prom- 
ising officers.  I  will  invite  three  of  them  to  come  and  dine 
with  us." 

"General,  I  shall  be  delighted." 

"Here,  orderly,  take  this  message  to  Captain  Colmey's 
tent.     There  you  will  find  Captains  Rutledge  and  Boiling." 

"General  Caswell,  I  am  anxious  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  any  of  our  officers  whose  spirits  are  big  with  hope 
and  ambition." 

"Here  they  are.  Come  in,  gentlemen.  Let  me  intro- 
duce you  to  Captain  DeLacy  of  the  Maryland  line.  Gentle- 
men, welcome." 

Soon  a  fat,  juicy  goose  and  a  well-roasted  pig  were 
placed  upon  the  table,  and  the  smell  of  a  clam-bake  quick- 
ened the  desire  for  the  approaching  feast. 

"Now,  gentlemen,  whet  your  appetites,  for  I  am  glad  to 
relate  that  I  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  be  supplied  from 
a  British  sutler's  wagon  with  several  baskets  of  old  wine 
of  the  markings  of  Maderia,  sherry,  claret,  and  port.  As 
to  their  mellowness,  their  flavor,  I  wish  you  to  pass  judg- 
ment when  the  seals  are  broken  and  the  contents  tested. 
Then  we  shall  vote  which  is  king." 

DeLacy:  "Gentlemen,  with  the  General's  permission,  I 
can  truly  vouch  for  the  strengthening  qualities  of  this 
lucky  addition  to  his  viands.  Without  question,  it  has 
made  our  host's  empulum  tempting  beyond  compare. 

Captain  Rutledge  :  Well,  Captain  DeLacy,  we  are  not 
insuriants  proper,  but  being  Charleston  bred,  I  promise 
you,  sir,  to  give  hearty  attention  to  the  menu. 

General  Caswell:  Now,  gentlemen,  as  we  have  all 
done  fairly  with  the  goose  and  cheese,  let's  chase  the  pig 


270  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

with  a  glass  of  our  favorite  fruit  of  the  vineyard.  Captain 
Boiling,  sir,  your  preference?" 

"General,  the  Old  Dominion  chooses  claret;  it  makes  us 
not  forget  our  duties  and  our  manners." 

"Captain  Rutledge,  honor  us,  sir." 

"General  Caswell,  a  South  Carolinian  loves  best  Banquet 
Maderia,  with  a  fruity,  nutty  flavor." 

"Captain  Colmey,  favor  us,  sir." 

"North  Carolina,  my  dear  General,  is  best  pleased  with 
old  vine-crested  ruby-red  port.  It  makes  our  blood  red 
and  our  nerves  brawny." 

"Now,  DeLacy,  which  for  Maryland,  the  land  of  Buff 
and  Blue?" 

"General,  bear  with  me,  gentlemen;  the  wine  of  wines 
is  golden  sherry;  it  makes  us  fair  and  merry.  It  is  the  wine 
most  used  by  royalty — old  sherry." 

"DeLacy,  show  me.  Because  His  Highness,  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  loves  best  the  Canary  Isle's  boast  and  pride,  why 
give  our  approval  to  that  particular  vintage?  Nay!  My 
native  State  I  love  well,  DeLacy,  but  my  love  is  so  great  for 
my  adopted  commonwealth  that,  gentlemen  and  friends, 
here's  to  old  Port  Tawney."    All  bowed. 

"Gentlemen,  now  in  due  season  our  memory  presses  us 
with  the  fact  that  these  times  are  flush  with  achievements. 
Peace — the  tender  rose  twig,  must  give  way  to  barken  oak, 
much  more  qualified  to  withstand  the  rough  stress  of  war. 
Honor  and  arms  are  to  be  our  inspirations!  I  can  but  feel 
impressed,  though  we  be  confederates  in  war,  that  you 
severally  chose  wines,  representative  of  your  respective 
states,  so  widely  different  in  fume  and  flavor.  All's  well. 
Thousands  of  tables  over  the  civilized  world  bear  these 
refreshments  for  merriment  and  for  benefit.  Yet  I  can  but 
feel  'tis  best  not  to  dash  our  wines  with  strange  or  stronger 
beverage  until  one  has  passed  the  hoary  limit  of  wisdom's 
three  score  years.     Now,  gentlemen!" 

All  arose  and  warmly  thanked  their  genial  host  for  goose, 


Moore  s  Bridge  Battle  271 

clam,  and  good  cheer,  and,  bowing  "good-bye,"  they  made 
ready  to  return  early  to  their  posts  of  duty,  as  had  been 
assigned  to  them  by  the  commanding  officer. 

"The  spirit  of  a  youth 
That  means  to  be  of  note,  begins  betimes — 
You  that  will  fight, 
Follow  me  close — Til  bring  you  to  it." 

"Colmey,  have  you  seen  Mrs.  Slocumb?  There  she 
stands.  She  is  the  pride,  the  theme  of  Moore's  Bridge 
Battle,  Carolina's  heroine!" 

"Boiling,  let  us  hear  some  good  news  soon  from  Vir- 
ginia. We  have  put  a  bearing  rein  upon  the  Tories  about 
here." 

"Yes,  Rutledge,  and  let's  keep  hammering  the  red-coats 
until  not  one  is  left  in  this  country." 

There  they  sat,  three  handsome  captains  of  the  Conti- 
nental Army,  mounted  on  horses  that  would  arrest  the 
attention  of  an  officer  of  the  Royal  Horse  Guards;  all  about 
the  same  age,  highly  educated,  and  bent  on  doing  their  full 
duty  in  upholding  the  American  banner.  Colonel  Lilling- 
ton,  with  ever  a  smile  and  a  ready  wit,  and  taking  a  full 
survey  of  this  trio,  jokingly  remarked:  "Well,  young  men, 
here's  a  ditty  for  what  it  is  worth,  in  commemoration  of  the 
colors  of  your  respective  chargers  as  I  see,  so  here  goes : 

"  'Palmetto's  choice  is  the  true-blue  roan, 
Virginia's  is  the  dappled  gray, 
And  the  coal-black  horse  is  the  North  State's  own; 
Now  let  others  choose  which  they  may.' 

"I  hear  General  Caswell's  fife  and  drum.  Young  men, 
au  revoir."  And  he  bowed  and  saluted  as  he  rode  away. 
They  called  to  him,  "Vive  le  Colonel." 

Boiling  started  for  the  headquarters  in  Virginia,  Rut- 
ledge  departed  to  rejoin  the  South  Carolina  forces,  and 
Colmey  was  ordered  to  go  and  guard  the  coast  near  Wil- 


272  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

mington,  sending  patrols  through  to  Swansboro,  and  await 
orders.  General  Caswell  recommended  to  the  authorities 
the  promotion  of  Captain  Colmey  to  a  lieutenant-colonelcy, 
and  for  him  to  raise  a  battalion. 

The  battle  of  Moore's  Bridge  was  of  vital  importance,  to 
sustain  and  arouse  and  consolidate  Southern  opinion  and 
to  break  the  influence  of  the  lusty  Tories.  The  British,  led 
by  McDonald  and  McLeod,  were  routed.  The  defense  of 
the  rights  of  men  appealed  to  the  people.  Valuable  stores 
of  guns,  ammunition,  horses  and  wagons,  were  captured 
and  a  strong-box  of  fifteen  thousand  pounds  sterling.  The 
shrill  notes  of  the  pibroch  were  hushed  by  the  clarion  notes 
of  the  bugles  of  the  victorious  Americans.  The  American 
spirit  had  burst  the  bonds  that  bound  them  to  Britain.  The 
Eagle's  talons  were  fastened  in  the  heart  strings  of  the 
Royal  Lion. 


XLIV 

CAMP  JOHNSTONE,  LAKE  CATHARINE 

"That  General  who  does  not  restrain  himself,  can  never  restrain 
his  army.  Nor  can  he  be  strict  in  judging  others  who  is  unwill- 
ing for  others  to  be  strict  in  judging  him." — Cicero. 

"Now,  by  the  good  sword  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  we  have 
on  hand  a  plenteous  shock  of  arms.  Here  I  am  ready  to  rush 
to  Queen's  Creek,  where  is  landed  the  enemy  in  some  force, 
a  hurry  call  has  come  to  gallop  to  Swansboro — that  two 
well-manned  brigs  with  heavy  artillery  are  threatening  to 
land  and  loot  the  people — and  now,  a  hot,  burning  plea  for 
help  to  drive  off  the  murderous  German  raiders  who  have 
massacred  the  inmates  of  the  Old  Tavern  on  the  sound  road, 
and  here  another  calling  for  men  to  rush  to  Rutherford's 
Mills,  where  Craig's  Cavalry  are  riding  roughshod  over 
the  country. 

"Adjutant  Grimes,  order  Captain  Wright  to  go  to  Ruther- 
ford's round-up  and  drive  off  Craig's  men.  Send  me 
Devane.  Devane,  go  and  capture  and  kill  those  bloody- 
minded  German  Hussars.  Take  Lieutenant  Yates  with 
you ;  he  knows  every  bypadi  and  is  a  brave,  fearless  officer. 
Capehart,  you  and  Hawks  follow  me.  Iredell,  take  charge 
of  the  camp.    Bugler,  sound  the  trumpet.     Let's  away!" 

The  three  different  commands  went  swiftly  to  avenge 
their  countrymen's  wrongs,  baring  their  bosoms  to,  maybe, 
balls  and  swords  of  death. 

In  the  heady  cavalry  fight  at  the  mills  Captain  Wright 
was  badly  wounded.  Captain  Davis,  who  volunteered  to 
ride  with  Wright  against  the  fire-and-sword  enemy,  was 
slain  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight. 

At  the  tavern  Devane  rode  down  the  enemy  with  the 

18  -  273 


274  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Light  Horse  at  his  back,  the  men  crying  aloud,  "No  quar- 
ter!" In  the  mixup  Lieutenant  Yates  was  killed  and  five 
men  were  severely  wounded.  Several  prisoners  captured 
red-handed  were  shot  in  cold  blood  before  Captain  Devane 
could  restrain  his  men.  The  officer,  Devane  saved  from 
death,  and  he  was  a  Prussian,  whose  horse  was  killed  under 
him.  His  name,  Vischner  of  the  German  Hussars.  He 
was  uniformed  in  gray-green,  boots  tan,  lined  with  soft 
green  cloth;  his  silver  card  case  marked  "Lieut.  Fritz 
Vischner,  Coblenz."  He  was  jocular,  accepted  his  fate  as 
became  a  soldier;  his  bearing,  proud  and  confident.  He 
would  not  discuss  military  matters,  spoke  English,  except 
that  the  Hussars  were  Bavarians,  Hessians,  and  Wurtem- 
bergers,  with  Prussian  officers. 

Three  miles  beyond  the  old  Sound  Tavern*  Lieutenant 
Love  and  Lieutenant  Bond  were  found — Bond  badly 
wounded.  The  dead  Germans  were  left  for  the  citizens  to 
bury.  Lieutenant  McClammy  was  borne  to  the  old  Mul- 
berry House  and  a  surgeon  sent  for. 

Colmey  reached  Queen's  Creek  to  find  the  enemy  sailing 
away.  He  hurried  to  Swansboro  and  the  brigs  were  well 
out  on  the  water.  He  then  hastened  to  Laurel  Ridge,  to 
find  it  in  ashes  and  the  enemy  gone.  Determining  it  was 
best  to  remain  near  the  sound,  he  put  out  pickets,  estab- 
lished a  patrol,  and  kept  a  watchful  waiting  day  and  night. 
Thousands  of  sweet,  sad  memories  crept  into  his  heart — his 
memory  and  day  dreams. 

While  at  the  Ridge  he  received  orders  to  return  at  once, 
as  the  enemy  was  gathering  supplies,  massing  men,  and 
supposedly  Lord  Cornwallis  and  Colonel  Tarleton  were 
making  great  preparations  to  march  to  Virginia  by  way  of 
Greensboro  or  Halifax. 

He  at  once  started  for  the  Lake.     The  neighing  of  the 


*Accounts  of  the  Tavern  massacre  and  the  Rutherford  Mills  raids  can  be 
found  in  Iredell's  and  Hooper's  letters. 


Camp  Johnstone,  Lake  Catharine  275 

horses  in  camp  at  the  approach  of  the  returning  troopers, 
the  shouts  of  the  Guards  and  the  Cavaliers,  made  the  welkin 
ring  and  all  hearts  glad. 

The  loss  of  the  several  brave  officers  and  men  was  de- 
plored, their  conduct  eulogized,  and  a  redetermination  was 
promised  by  every  man  in  camp  to  hit  hard  on  every  occa- 
sion the  sanguinary,  pillaging  enemy. 

Camp  Johnstone  was  located  amid  great  oaks,  lofty  pines 
and  fragrant  bay  trees,  where  the  salt  sea  air  came  up  on 
the  wings  of  the  wind  to  refresh  and  enliven.  It  was  just 
between  the  All  Healing  Springs  and  the  beautiful  lily 
covered  lake.  It  was  an  ideal  selection  for  health  and  for 
beautiful  surroundings;  it  was  a  point  of  advantage  for  a 
cavalry  battalion  operating  between  Wilmington  and 
Swansboro.  The  morale  of  the  command  was  good,  and 
officers,  noncommissioned  officers,  and  privates,  one  and  all 
felt  that  "we  three  are  one." 

Camp  life  had  become  acceptable  to  the  high-spirited 
young  men  here  gathered  for  the  accomplishment  of  a 
mighty  National  purpose — the  Independence  of  the  Ameri- 
can Colonies. 

The  camp  duties,  sometimes  monotonous,  became  irk- 
some to  these  hot-blooded  Southerners,  but  they  obeyed 
becomingly,  except  now  and  then  a  born  crossgrained  one, 
like  unto  what  often  we  see  in  inanimate  nature  and  trees, 
hard  to  split,  twisted  in  orchards  and  in  the  deep  woody 
river  lands. 

From  the  capture  of  much  quartermaster  stores  from  the 
British  at  the  Moore's  Bridge  fight,  the  equipment  of  the 
Colmey  Guards  and  the  Onslow  Bays  was  easily  effected, 
of  saddles,  sabers,  bridles,  spurs,  pistols,  army  blankets, 
and  boots. 

In  a  moment  of  merriment  a  draw  was  taken  by  the  offi- 
cers of  the  battalion  for  names  for  the  respective  squadrons. 
It  fell  out  that  the  First  (the  Guards  and  the  Lancers) 
should  be  called  the  Wild  Boars,  that  the  Second  (the  Cape 


276  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Fear  Light  Horse  and  the  Onslow  Bays)  should  be  named 
Wild  Cats,  and  the  Third  (the  Craven  Cavaliers  and  the 
Carteret  Dragoons)  should  go  by  the  name  of  the  Bears. 

The  field  officers  were  Lieutenant-Colonel  Colmey,  Major 
Iredell,  Adjutant  Grimes,  and  the  ranking  Captain, 
Capehart.  Gilbert  De  Leon  was  the  Color  Sergeant  of  the 
Union  flag,  and  Almon  Brinson  the  State  battle  flag  bearer. 
The  officers  had,  by  an  unanimous  vote,  declared  for  the 
battalion  battle  flag,  a  crimson  flag  with  a  hornets'  nest  in 
the  center  The  Colonel  ordered  that  the  First  Squadron 
should  ride  black  horses,  that  the  Second  should  have  bays, 
and  that  the  Third  should  be  on  mounts  of  chestnuts.  It 
was  understood  that  the  Guards  was  to  be  the  charging 
company,  the  Cape  Fear  the  flag  company,  and  the  Cava- 
liers was  to  be  the  rear  guard. 

The  Medical  Department  was  in  charge  of  Dr.  Romney 
Jones,  Captain  Surgeon,  and  the  hospital  steward  was  a 
young  Frenchman,  who  had  studied  medicine  and  served 
in  the  hospitals  of  Paris  as  ward  master.  Quentin  Cham- 
bery  proved  to  be  a  most  valuable  auxiliary.  Unfortu- 
nately, Surgeon  Jones,  while  visiting  a  very  sick  family 
near  the  Old  Tavern,  was  captured  by  a  raiding  party  of 
Craig's  Cavalry. 

It  was  a  systematic  fact  that  the  battalion  should  be  paid 
off  every  sixty  days.  Colonel  Colmey  held  it  was  due  the 
men  and  that  they  served  more  contentedly  when  paid  off 
regularly.  There  was  not  a  white,  nor  a  gray,  cream,  or 
roan  horse  allowed  in  the  Battalion.  The  slogan  was,  "We 
are  here  and  ready,  Colonel." 

In  the  early  morning  hours  the  bugler  sounded  "the 
stable  call"  and  the  officers  of  the  day  at  once  took  cogni- 
zance of  the  men  ordered  to  rub  down  their  horses. 

"Say  you,  Bob  Nixon,  don't  you  hear  that  stable  message 
to  shine  the  horses  like  mahogany?" 

"Yes,  and  damn  that  bugler,  he  will  blow  one  away  from 


Camp  Johnstone,  Lake  Catharine  211 

his  breakfast  or  his  cards  most  indifferently.  If  I  wan't 
sworn  in  for  the  war,  I  swear  I  would  go  home  and  stay 
there.     I  certainly  would." 

"You  would,  hey?  It's  getting  too  much  like  real  war 
for  you,  is  it,  Nixon?" 

"I'll  be  there  at  the  last  roll  call  or  I'll  be  dead  or  dis- 
abled, and  for  all  your  bluster  and  big  talk,  you  Alphin 
Venters,  I  doubt  much  to  hear  you  answer  'present'  then 
and  there." 


XLV 

LEONATI'S  CROSSING  (OR  ADKIN'S) 

"Nature  craves 
All  dues  be  rendered  to  their  owners;  now 
What  nearer  debt  in  all  humanity 
Than  wife  to  the  husband?" 

"Adjutant,  where  is  the  Colonel?  Do  you  know  why 
this  is  called  Leonati's  Crossing?" 

"The  Colonel  is  down  the  river,  not  far  away,  with  one 
Mr.  Jackson,  who  says  he  can  show  the  Battalion  a  good 
fordway.  I  don't  know  why  this  Indian  name,  and  it  is  here 
report  has  it  the  New  Bern  and  Wilmington  men  met  and 
ferried  over  in  1712  for  the  fight  at  Fort  Nahucky." 

"I  hear  Lieutenant  Ballard  was  sent  over  early  this  morn- 
ing to  scout  the  country." 

"Here,  Curry,  there  they  are.  The  guide  in  the  lead  and 
Lieutenant  Humphrey  and  some  of  the  Guards  following 
him.  The  water  comes  only  to  the  girths;  the  Battalion 
can  pass  over." 

"Colonel  Tarleton's  destroying  the  ferry  boats  won't 
hurt  us  much.  I  have  been  ordered  to  report  to  headquar- 
ters, as  some  of  the  men  have  been  complaining." 

"Well,  you  know  the  Ordnance,  the  Commissary,  and  the 
Quartermaster's  departments  must  be  kept  up  to  the  notch." 

"Yes,  Adjutant,  but  when  an  officer  does  his  best,  that  is 
all  an  angel  can  do." 

"True;  but,  Lieutenant  Curry,  Colonel  Colmey  will  not 
take  any  excuses.  If  an  officer  cannot  fill  the  measure  he 
will  be  set  aside  and  a  more  efficient  man  put  in  his  stead." 
'Captain  Hays  informed  me  that  he  was  spoken  to  quite 

278 


<(/ 


Leonatis  Crossing  279 

abruptly,  that  the  Colonel  told  him  squarely  that  the  Quar- 
termaster quota  had  to  keep  at  the  maximum,  from  an  ax 
to  an  overcoat." 

"Well,  Curry,  who  is  the  proper  man  to  call  an  officer 
but  the  Colonel?" 

"Yes,  but  difficulties  are  met  often,  and  we  need  to  be 
kindly  spoken  to,  not  with  flashing  eyes  and  a  cutting  tone 
of  voice." 

"Well,  the  way  out  of  it,  if  it  is  too  unpleasant,  is  to 
resign." 

"Resign!  Who  wishes  to  leave  the  Battalion?  I  cer- 
tainly do  not.  Lieutenant  Doty  told  me  the  Colonel  was 
very  impatient  with  him,  that  he,  Doty,  should  have  kept 
the  ovens  and  cauldrons,  etc.,  cooking  rations  all  night  so 
the  men  could  get  breakfast  by  daybreak;  that  'men  to  go  to 
the  front  must  be  fed,  their  horses  must  have  corn  and  hay' ; 
'that  he  and  his  help  could  sleep  after  the  morning  hours' ; 
that  'if  this  ever  happens  again,  I  shall  deal  with  every  offi- 
cer connected  with  the  dereliction;  I  will  take  no  excuses.' 
Doty  said  he  was  glad  to  get  away  and  get  a  good  breath." 

"Well,  Curry,  the  Colonel  is  right.  He  is  not  weak- 
handed  when  he  straightens  up  for  the  good  of  his  men." 

"Of  course,  Adjutant,  I  shall  obey  orders;  the  whole 
shooting-match  of  this  affair  has  been  brought  about  by  the 
'Cavaliers,'  those  everlasting  growlers." 

"Well,  Curry,  if  I  remember  aright,  the  'Cape  Fear  Cats' 
caterwaul  as  much  as  the  cursed  Craven  troopers  growl." 

"Just  as  certain  as  the  Welshmen  delight  to  wear  leeks 
on  St.  David's  Day,  just  so  certain  do  I  shrink  from  counsel 
with  the  Colonel  this  breezy  morning." 

"The  sooner  bad  medicine  is  taken,  the  sooner  for- 
gotten." 

"Well,  I  shall  let  the  plain  truth  get  me  grace.  If  the 
'Bears'  and  the  'Cats'  had  not  taken  too  greedily  of  the  ego 
of  their  captains  they  would  not  appear  to  lookers-on  so 
much  like  a  set  of  Bavians." 


280  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Let  up,  Curry,  let  up.  If  their  tongues  are  sharp,  so 
are  their  swords." 

"In  my  humble  judgment  they  are  the  lesser  of  the  Bat- 
talion, and  their  proper  place  should  be  in  a  strictly  kept 
apery." 

"Good-bye.     Come  again,  Curry.' 


5> 


LEGEND 

The  would-be  legend  runs  this  way,  that  about  the  year 
of  our  Lord,  1657,  a  band  of  Tuscaroras  was  returning  a 
visit  to  the  Congarees  of  South  Carolina.  They  were  to 
witness  a  wrestling  game  between  a  body  of  Congarees  and 
a  strolling  band  of  Delawares.  The  Delaware  Indians 
were  once  a  powerful  tribe,  and  from  Pennsylvania  to 
South  Carolina  they  roamed  where  and  when  they  pleased. 

The  Delawares  defeated  the  Congarees,  and  among  them 
was  a  handsome  brave  named  Silver  Ring,  because  he 
wore  rings  of  silver  in  his  ears.  This  brave  fell  desper- 
ately in  love  with  the  beautiful  Leonati,  or  Cooing  Dove, 
the  wife  of  a  Tuscaroran  who  was  away  from  home  on  a 
big  hunt. 

Womanlike,  at  the  first  she  was  privately  flattered  by  the 
unhidden  admiration  of  this  stalwart  Delawarean.  She 
prudently  withdrew  herself  from  the  amorous  advances  of 
this  strong-limbed  wrestler,  hoping  he  would  go  away  and 
follow  her  no  further;  but  the  uncurbed  passion  of  Silver 
Ring  made  him  have  deaf  ears  to  common  caution. 

When  the  Tuscarorans  took  up  their  homeward  march, 
Silver  Ring  and  two  of  his  tribe  joined  the  party  and  be- 
came in  word  and  act  a  part  and  parcel  of  the  return  band. 
Leonati  viewed  with  alarm  the  persistent  attendance  of  these 
Delaware  braves.  She  firmly  refused  to  accept  any  love 
tokens  from  Silver  Ring  and  discountenanced  his  love 
looks.  This  heightened  his  masculine  ardency.  She  kept 
near  the  camp,  herself  well  "roped."     She  knew  there  was 


Leonati  s  Crossing  281 

one  coming  for  her  in  his  white  birchen  canoe,  and  in  it  she 
and  her  beloved  would  float  slowly  down  the  smooth- stream 
river,  stopping  now  and  then  under  the  overhanging  wil- 
lows; and  thence  pull  away  for  their  happy  wigwam  home, 
awaiting  their  return  in  the  fern-lined  valley  of  the  Con- 
tentnea.  Leonati  kept  constantly  with  her  her  handy  meat 
knife,  and  for  sure,  the  hourly  expectancy  of  her  husband 
made  her  whole  frame  thrill  with  so  much  blissful  antici- 
pation that  it  made  her  forget  the  presence,  the  daily 
annoyance  of  her  would-be  lover.  She  could  hear  her 
husband  call  her  Sweet  Cooing  Dove.  As  she  sat  in  his 
lap  she  would  tell  him  of  her  trip  and  hear  of  his  trapping 
the  otter  and  slaying  the  deer  on  Pamlico's  broad,  deep, 
tufted  island.  Every  halloo  from  the  river  made  her  stop 
eagerly  and  listen  for  his  dear  call,  "Leonati!  Leonati!" 

Is  not  the  heaven  part  of  us,  in  us,  and  about  us,  love? 
Yes,  her  husband  was  coming.  Silver  Ring,  being  apprised 
of  this,  determined  to  possess  Leonati  at  all  hazards.  Fear- 
ing the  arrival  of  Fast  Dancer,  he  matured  his  plans  and 
communicated  with  his  tribal  companions  that  on  first 
opportunity  they  were  to  act,  and  they  set  upon  the  time 
when  she  went  at  sunset  for  her  drinking  water.  Ambushed, 
waiting  as  she  came,  they  sprang  out  and  seized  her, 
dragged  her  violently  toward  a  hidden  canoe.  Being 
young,  full  of  nerve,  and  active,  she  resolutely  resisted, 
cried  aloud  for  help,  and,  getting  hold  of  her  knife,  she 
stabbed  Silver  Ring  deeply  in  his  neck,  and  fought  for  her 
honor  and  her  liberty  with  might  and  main.  Enraged  at 
her  stubbornness,  stung  by  her  stabbing,  he  struck  her  dead 
with  his  tomahawk. 

The  Delawares  took  to  their  boat,  paddled  hurriedly  for 
the  opposite  side,  and  made  their  escape  in  the  dense 
undergrowth  of  the  upper  lowlands.  As  soon  as  it  was 
known,  a  dozen  braves  threw  themselves  into  the  river, 
swam  over  to  capture  and  avenge  the  brutal  death  of  their 


282  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

kinswoman.  They  scoured  the  swamps  and  the  hills,  but 
not  a  trace  could  they  find  of  the  Delaware  murderers. 

The  next  evening  when  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the 
great  pine  trees  of  the  Let  Alones,  Fast  Dancer  came.  He 
jumped  from  his  canoe,  ran  up  the  bank  of  the  river  and 
softly,  joyfully  called,  "Leonati,  Leonati."  The  twelve 
warriors  had  returned  and  reported,  "We  only  found  much 
blood,  the  boat  was  much  blood.  We  could  not  find  his 
grave." 

Fast  Dancer,  bending  over  his  wife,  seeing  his  loved 
one's  hair — long,  black  and  silky — now  red  with  her  blood, 
drew  his  hunting  knife,  bathed  it  in  her  precious  life 
current,  called  to  his  friends,  plunged  into  the  river,  has- 
tened up  the  lowgrounds  to  overtake  the  murderers  of  his 
faithful  wife. 

Fast  Dancer  never  returned.  He  found  the  Delawares. 
He  furiously  attacked  them,  and  he  and  Silver  Ring  fell 
fighting  in  mortal  combat.  He  died  happy,  having  avenged 
his  wife — his  hunting  knife  was  buried  in  the  heart  of 
hell-hated  Silver  Ring. 

Now,  this  is  why  this  crossing  is  Leonati's.  It  was  here 
her  dutiful  spirit  crossed  over  into  the  Great  Spirit  Land 
of  her  fathers,  where  the  flowers  are  fair  and  fragrant  and 
the  trees  are  ever  green. 


XLVI 


A  HORNETS'  NEST  ON  FLAG 

"Be  what  you  seem; 

'Tis  man's  bold  task  the  generous  strife  to  try, 
But  in  the  hands  of  God  is  victory." 

— Iliad. 

A  crimson  flag  with  a  hornets'  nest  in  center  was  floating 
above  Colonel  Colmey's  tent.  Information  had  come  that 
the  British  were  soon  to  advance.  From  headquarters  in- 
structions had  been  received  to  be  on  the  alert  and  harass 
and  destroy  the  enemy  as  much  as  possible  as  he  marched 
through  the  State  for  Virginia;  that  ammunition  and  sup- 
plies should  be  at  once  gotten  plentifully  and  have  every- 
thing ready  to  retard  the  advance  of  the  enemy.  Drills 
daily  and  combats  between  the  companies  and  squadrons 
were  ordered.  The  Queen  Anne's  men,  or  the  "Heavies," 
were  ordered  to  practice  lying  down  and  loading  and  crawl- 
ing to  meet  the  enemy.  They  were  armed  with  guns  called 
the  Queen  Anne's. 

You  may  say  what  you  please,  yet  camp  life  is  and  ever 
will  be  fascinating  to  young  men.  It  is  getting  back  to 
nature.  There  is  in  it  a  savage  delight,  unaccountable  to 
priests  and  women.  It  is  a  free  and  easy  life,  a  do  and 
dare-devil  existence,  a  don't-care,  a  happy-go-lucky  life, 
sitting  around  the  camp  fires,  or  on  a  far-away  picket,  or 
hurrying  into  the  battle  line.  Away  from  home,  you  know 
the  loved  ones  back  there  are  anxious  about  you — that  the 
girl  you  left  behind  says  daily  reverent  prayers  for  your 
health  and  safety.  And  your  schoolmates,  they  are  meas- 
uring themselves  with  you  in  action  and  duty  to  country. 
You  know  your  bitterest  enemy  is  wishing  to  hear  of  your 


284  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

being  "taken  off"  in  the  last  engagement  your  regiment 
was  in.  It  is  a  life  of  romance,  of  suffering,  of  endurance, 
and  so  often  a  life  of  agony  and  death.  You  know  you  are 
licensed  to  meet  and  kill  your  man.  Ah!  then  the  songs 
by  moonlight,  when  everything  is  still,  when  your  mind 
goes  back  to  "the  old  love  days,"  and  in  all  of  its  ups  and 
downs,  you  do  not  forget  "the  fellow  at  home  you  hate." 
You  relish  quaint,  outlandish  stories  told  by  Jones,  Barfield 
and  Smithwick.  Now  you  are  detailed  by  a  scurvy  ser- 
geant to  go  to  a  post-stand  you  despise;  now  you  are  sent 
on  a  detail  as  a  scout  party  to  find  out  what  the  enemy  is 
doing,  and  where  their  lines  are  established;  and  then 
letters  from  home,  knowing  that  you  are  creating  anxiety, 
that  you  are  cried  after,  that  you  are  thought  of,  prayed  for. 
Ah!  it  is  sweet  to  the  young,  and  the  remembrance  of  it  is 
cherished  by  the  old. 

Lying  down  in  camp,  Holmes  of  the  Second  Squadron, 
who  was  cracking  peanuts,  remarked,  "It  does  seem  to  me 
that  Colonel  Colmey  will  have  his  'pig  squealers'  at  his 
heels  in  spite  of  wind  and  wave." 

"Well,  as  for  me,  Bob  Nixon,  I  don't  care  a  cussed  d — n 
about  the  'grunters.'  I  do  know,  though,  the  cry  of  a  'cat' 
and  the  growl  of  a  'honey-lover'  is  music  to  his  ears  when 
danger  is  near." 

"Say  there,  Bloodworth!  D — n  me,  my  friend,  if  those 
petted  Colmey  Guards  were  run  over  by  the  Redcoats  or 
run  through  by  Indians,  I  don't  believe  I  would  care  a  pine 
straw,  I  wouldn't." 

"Here,  here,  Holmes,  you  are  all  going  too  far;  they  are 
our  comrades,  good  and  true.  Guards  or  Dragoons,  Cava- 
liers or  Lancers,  we  one  and  all  are  one  and  the  same." 

"Well,  I  take  it  a  'cat'  or  a  'bear'  is  as  good  as  a  'boar' — 
how  does  that  suit  you,  Bloodworth?  I  despise  pets, 
and  I  am  like  a  Jew — when  you  say  'pig,'  Bob  Nixon  says 
'bah!'" 

"Yes,  but,  Holmes,  you  and  Bob  Nixon  are  allowing  your 


A  Hornets'  Nest  on  Flag  285 

bad  temper  to  get  the  upper  hand  of  you.  It  is  silly  to 
hear  'cats'  and  'bears'  whine  and  snap  because  our  Colonel 
puts  more  duties  on  the  'boars'  than  he  does  on  them.  As 
for  me,  I  am  truly  glad  he  makes  the  'squealers'  rough  it, 
instead  of  calling  a  'cat.' 

"Cowan,  come  over  here.  Here's  Bloodworth  giving  us 
a  regular  preachment  for  cussing  out  the  damn  'boars.' 

"Well,  Holmes,  I  agree  with  Bloodworth,  and  raise  my 
hat  to  the  Colonel  for  pushing  out  and  in  the  pretty  'pigs.' 

"Sh!  Major  Iredell  is  passing." 

As  the  troopers  were  sitting  and  lying  around  the  camp- 
fire,  half  asleep,  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  the  moon 
shining  in  unwonted  brilliancy,  Cowan  called  out,  "Boys, 
look  out  there — the  Colonel  is  sure  coming."  Soon  Colonel 
Colmey  came.  His  eyes  had  a  vacancy  in  them  and  he  sat 
down  right  by  Holmes.  Holmes  was  excited.  Bob  Nixon 
had  slipped  into  his  quarters  and  had  whispered  for  them 
all  to  "tell  the  Colonel  that  he  had  been  gone  on  picket  duty 
a  week." 

Colonel  Colmey  sat  down  on  the  ground.  Holmes  begged 
him  to  sit  on  the  camp-log.  But  no,  the  Colonel  sat  and 
looked  as  one  in  a  dream.  One  of  the  Colmey  Guards  had 
followed  him,  and  stood  by  with  cheeks  wet  with  tears. 
Bloodworth  sent  for  Major  Iredell  to  come,  and  when  he 
came  he  went  up  to  the  Colonel  and  said,  "Colonel,  let's 
go  to  bed!  it's  high  time,  come." 

"All  right,  Iredell,  send  me  Remo — yes."  The  Colonel 
got  up  and  went  directly  into  Holmes's  and  Nixon's  quar- 
ters and  abstractedly  lay  down  on  a  pallet.  Nixon  deftly 
slipped  off  the  Colonel's  boots  and  unbuckled  his  belt  and 
threw  a  duffel  over  him.  Major  Iredell  went  in  and  saw 
that  the  Colonel  was  well  cared  for  and,  making  no  remark, 
he  started  for  his  own  tent.  Bloodworth  stepped  up  and 
asked  him  to  order  the  Colmey  Guard  to  return  to  his 
quarters,  as  the  Cape  Fear  men  were  willing  and  would 
watch  over  and  care  for  their  Colonel. 


286  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

When  morning  came,  Colonel  Colmey  looked  up  to  find 
himself  in  unknown  surroundings.  Remo  was  sitting  at 
the  door. 

"Remo." 

"Sir?" 

"Where  am  I?" 

"Marse  Jean,  youse  among  the  Colmey  Horses." 

"Ah!  the  Second — all  right.  Where  is  Captain  De 
Vane?" 

"He's  gone  to  Masonboro,  sir." 

"Colonel,  we  are  here  and  anxious  to  wait  on  you.  You 
are  with  the  Cape  Fear  Light  Horse." 

"Ah!     Holmes,  that  you?" 

"Yes,  sir;  and,  Colonel,  stay  and  eat  breakfast  with  us; 
please  do." 

"Hello,  Bloodworm,  that  you?" 

"Yes,  Colonel,  and  we  beg  the  honor  of  your  presence 
at  breakfast  with  us;  as  you  deigned  to  lodge  with  us." 

"All  right,  just  as  you  say  I  will  do.  Now  you  all  must 
forgive  me  for  intruding  myself  on  you;  but  I  am  unfortu- 
nate in  some  respects,  I  am  a  somnambulist." 

"Yes,  Colonel,  we  are  of  Colmey's  Battalion  and  we 
know  our  duty  to  our  Colonel." 

"Yes,  but  you  are  all  too  good  to  me." 

After  breakfast  the  Colonel  thanked  them  for  their  kind- 
ness and  slowly  walked  back  to  his  tent. 

"Say,  Bloodworm,  be  my  priest;  I  desire  to  confess.  I 
feel  that  I  have  strayed.  I  am  unworthy  to  be  a  Cape  Fear 
Light  Horse,  I  am." 

"Well,  Jack,  an  honest  confession  is  good  for  the  soul. 
I  hereby  reinstate  you." 

"Bloodworth,  I  am  the  same  Bob  Nixon.  Damn  me  if 
I'm  afraid  of  God  or  man.  No,  Tom,  I  am  no  longer  a 
Jew;  I'm  a  Gentile,  pure  and  simple,  pig  or  no  pig.  You 
hear?" 

"Yes,  I  understand,  Nixon.     You  both  have  mercilessly 


A  Hornets  Nest  on  Flag  287 

berated  Colonel  Colmey  and  the  Guards,  when  the  truth  is 
known  the  Guards  were  only  watchful  over  their  old  Cap- 
tain, knowing  that  God  had  afflicted  him  in  this  way,  and 
always  a  father  to  them." 

"Come,  boys,  let's  stand  together — you  hear?" 
The  Colmey  Guards  were  the  first  troopers  on  the  field. 
The  camp  was  well  laid  off,  and  water  and  wood  supply 
had  been  well  considered.  Roland  Capehart  of  Edenton 
came  with  twenty  men  and  joined  the  Guards.  Soon  the 
Brunswick  Lancers  came,  and  then  the  Onslow  Bays,  and 
Cape  Fear  Light  Horse,  and  the  Cavaliers  of  Craven,  and 
the  Carteret  Dragoons.  The  six  companies  were  enrolled 
and  divided  into  three  squadrons. 


XLVII 
THE  HALIFAX  FIGHT 

"Let  each  man  do  his  best  and  here  draw 
A  sword  whose  temper  I  intend  to  stain 
With  the  best  blood  that  I  can  meet  withal, 
In  the  adventures  of  this  perilous  day." 

The  outposts  of  the  battalion  had  been  driven  in  the 
night  before  and  Lieutenant  Bloodworth  reported  a  very 
heavy  force  in  front.  Colmey's  orders  were  to  harass,  cut 
off  foragers,  and  do  all  the  damage  possible  to  Lord  Corn- 
wallis's  column.  Colonel  Colmey  knew  six  hundred  troop- 
ers could  not  withstand  the  British  column,  and  he  called 
in  his  men  and  waited  an  opportunity  to  strike.  Every 
day  the  battalion  hung  on  to  the  rear  of  the  British,  and 
woe  to  a  loiterer,  any  squad  that  could  be  attacked,  killed, 
or  captured.  After  the  crossing  of  the  Neuse  at  Adkins 
Ferry,  his  battalion  became  so  bold  and  daring  that  Tarle- 
ton  ordered  his  cannon  to  beat  off  Colmey.  The  battalion 
would  dash  in,  slash,  cut  and  shoot  and  then  race  away. 
Colonel  Tarleton  had  found  out  it  was  dangerous  to  attack 
Colmey  only  by  force  and  with  a  battery. 

At  the  crossing  at  Black  Creek  the  British  cavalry  gave 
a  chance  for  a  fight.  Colmey  sent  the  Third  Squadron, 
under  Hawkes  and  Saunders,  to  drive  them  off. 

In  the  Battalion  there  was  a  jealousy  between  the  Cape 
Fear  Light  Horse  and  the  Craven  Cavaliers.  With  one 
voice,  by  common  consent,  all  good-naturedly  accorded  to 
the  Guards  the  first  place,  as  the  charging  company  of  the 
Battalion.  The  Lancers  were  the  best  drilled.  The  Third 
was  handled  with  vigor  and  skill,  and  the  enemy  was  driven 

288 


I      ^1 


Wif,  »;m  j 


1 


lilfflll 


The  Halifax  Fight 


The  Halifax  Fight  289 

off  pell-mell.  Colmey  publicly  praised  the  Third  and  all 
were  ready  to  "Rah!  Rah!  for  the  Bears!" 

Lieutenant  Bellamy,  who  had  become  captain,  had  been 
sent  with  the  Brunswick  Lancers  to  be  in  call  if  needed  by 
Hawkes.  At  Franky  Chapel  (see  notes)  the  British  rode 
roughshod  over  the  neighborhood,  destroying  property, 
and,  in  wantonness,  insulted  women  most  grossly.  Colmey 
concluded  from  the  reports  of  his  scouts  that  it  was  a  good 
time  to  move  up  against  the  enemy.  He  sent  against  them 
the  Second  Squadron,  Captains  DeVane  and  Ennett.  In 
a  gallop  with  drawn  sabers  the  Second  struck  the  British, 
rode  them  down,  and  sabered  right  and  left.  In  the  fervor 
of  the  fight  the  Second  charged  almost  into  Tarleton's 
headquarters. 

Colonel  Tarleton  ordered  the  English  Grays  to  drive  off 
the  Americans.  A  small  battery  of  artillery  opened  hotly 
on  the  Second,  and  they  were  compelled  to  fall  back  and 
ask  for  reinforcements.  The  English  cavalry  came  bravely 
forward,  but  halted  when  they  saw  help  coming  up.  Colo- 
nel Colmey  took  the  First  and  hastened  at  a  gallop  to  brace 
the  Second,  but  the  enemy  had  been  so  roughly  handled  by 
the  Second  at  the  Chapel  that  they  held  off  behind  their 
battery.  The  Colonel  complimented  highly  the  dash  of 
the  Seconds.  And  now  it  was  time  to  "Hurrah  for  the 
Cats." 

The  next  day  Colmey  drew  well  off  his  Battalion  to  allow 
the  men  and  horses  some  rest.  Pickets  and  a  camp  watch 
were  on,  and  every  night  he  changed  his  camp  for  fear  of 
Tories  discovering  to  Colonel  Tarleton  his  whereabouts. 
Further,  from  citizens  he  gathered  the  fact  that  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  was  in  Halifax  and  was  abusing  the  people.  Women 
had  been  outraged  by  his  brutal  soldiery,  and  a  camp  of 
cavalry  was  in  a  woods  near  the  Montfort  Manor  and  a 
small  battery  of  flying  artillery  was  with  it. 

That  night,  in  company  with  a  trusty  citizen,  with  Iredell 
and  Capehart,  Colmey  reconnoitered  close  up  to  the  Manor, 

19 


290  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

could  see  lights  burning  in  the  house.  He  thought  of  the 
woman  he  loved  being  there  in  danger,  and  determined  to 
fight  the  fight  of  his  life  next  afternoon.  They  all  hugged 
the  high  fence  and  surveyed  as  best  they  could  the  situation, 
where  best  to  strike. 

Colmey  knew  it  was  poor  military  sense  to  hope  to  attack 
a  very  superior  force  successfully.  He  saw  that  this  out- 
post was  attackable,  and  he  would  make  his  assault  near 
nightfall,  so  the  enemy  would  not  follow  him  far,  for  the 
dusk  and  the  woods,  and  for  fear  of  an  ambuscade. 

Late  next  afternoon  Colmey  formed  his  Battalion.  He 
had  dismounted  sharpshooters  and  they  crept  toward  the 
battery.  Lieutenant  Humphrey  was  ordered  to  ride  the 
field,  see  if  any  ditches  were  in  front  when  they  charged. 

May  Montfort  was  quite  uneasy;  rumor  was  that  any 
American  sympathizer  was  to  be  robbed  and  houses  to  be 
burned.  She  stood  in  the  broad  hall  as  one  in  a  troubled 
dream.  She  had  now  passed  her  forty-second  year.  Her 
face  was  thoughtful  and  the  glow  of  health  incarnadined 
her  cheek  and  lip.  There  was  something  about  her  softly 
suggestive  of  a  full-blown  moss  rose.  The  air  about  her 
was  perfumed  with  the  fragrance  of  many  geraniums. 
(See  note.)  There  was  a  certain  amount  of  anxiety  in  her 
look  as  one  who  stood  in  want  in  the  home  of  wealth,  that 
an  unseen  cross  was  upon  her — burdensome  at  times,  but 
yet  one  she  would  not  have  displaced.  She  inaudably 
exclaimed,  "0  that  this  growing  dreariness  might  be  bright- 
ened by  the  golden  rays  of  happiness,  or  that  an  uprooting 
storm  might  come  and  dispel  these  somber  shadows."  She 
had  an  insistent  craving  at  heart,  had  hopes  crushed,  seem- 
ingly to  her,  that  would  never  be  revivified.  Her  panting 
spirit  felt  encaged  by  the  gentle  proprieties  of  life,  and  her 
every  action  was  guided  by  the  reins  of  her  pure,  unselfish 
womanhood. 

No  bird,  however  beautiful,  but  pines  for  the  caresses  of 


The  Halifax  Fight  291 

a  mate.  Some  griefs  are  medicinable,  and  the  helping 
portion  lies  hidden  in  Time's  fruitful  basket. 

May  walked  out  on  the  veranda  to  listen  to  the  noise 
that  grew  louder  in  the  south,  from  guns  firing.  She 
thought  at  once  of  the  rumor  that  Lord  Cornwallis's  army 
was  on  its  way  to  Virginia,  and  was  expected  any  day  to 
march  through  Halifax.  Barney  ran  up  excitedly,  "Mistis, 
de  Redcoats  and  our  folks  is  er  fitin'!"  It  was  about  dusk. 
In  a  few  moments  a  battery  of  light  artillery,  of  two  guns, 
came  galloping  up.  The  fences  were  torn  down  and  the 
guns  were  quickly  formed  across  a  nearby  open  field. 
May  was  electrified.  Her  heart  jumped  violently.  Here 
came  a  cavalry  force  in  a  trot,  with  drawn  sabers,  and 
quickly  took  position  behind  the  artillery.  May  saw  two 
dismounted  cavalrymen  creeping  up  towards  the  guns  from 
the  south.  They  stood  up  and  fired  at  the  gunners  and 
then  hid  themselves.  Immediately  a  horseman  came  in 
full  speed  toward  the  battery.  When  two-thirds  across  the 
field  he  seemed  to  have  gathered  what  information  as  to  the 
ground  he  wanted,  and  wheeled  and  dashed  back  to  the 
squadrons  now  forming. 

There  was  a  loud  blast  of  trumpets.  The  sharpshooters 
kept  firing  at  the  gunners.  And  now  comes  the  American 
horse  in  columns  with  open  spaces,  in  the  rear  the  reserves. 
Boot  to  boot,  heads  bent,  spurs  touching  the  sides  of  their 
oncoming  horses,  the  officers  in  front.  It  was  grand  to  see ! 
On  they  came.  The  very  ground  shook.  "Fire!"  The 
British  guns  belched  canister.  Men  and  horses  went 
down,  but  on  they  came,  straight  for  the  guns.  Before  the 
cannons  could  reload  the  British  cavalry  had  engaged  the 
Americans.  There  was  a  slashing  of  sabers  right  and  left, 
loud  shouts,  and  all  in  all  the  men  looked  like  fiends  fight- 
ing. There  was  such  a  mix-up,  the  commingling  of  the 
men,  that  the  cannoneers  stood  and  looked  on  with  lanyard 
in  hand.  It  was  now  man  to  man,  horse  to  horse,  saber  to 
saber. 


292  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

The  British  discipline  and  superior  arms  were  being 
manifested,  The  Americans  were  getting  worsted.  Men 
were  falling,  blood  was  flowing,  but  the  British  cavalry 
held  their  own.  May  cried  out  in  agony  of  spirit,  "Father, 
God!  strengthen  the  arms  of  my  countrymen!"  The  Ameri- 
cans were  weakening.  The  British  cheered  lustily  when 
they  saw  Colonel  Tarleton  coming  in  a  gallop  with  rein- 
forcements. 

The  Americans  were  in  the  enemy's  lines,  but  they  had 
been  there  before.  They  were  hemmed  in,  and  the  British 
stoutly  standing  their  ground.  Before  the  reinforcements 
reached  the  battery,  out  in  the  deepening  dusk,  a  voice  was 
heard  above  the  rush  of  caparisoned  steeds;  above  the 
hoarse  swearing  of  the  surging,  fighting  troopers.  Loud 
and  clear  it  rang  out  above  the  din  of  the  battle:  "Iredell! 
Grimes!     Charge  once  more!" 

Then  the  leader  led  his  men  again  into  the  thick  of  the 
fight.  Riderless  horses  were  seen  rushing  madly  near  by 
from  the  field.  And  now  the  darkling  shadows  had  come 
and  hid  the  combatants  from  her  sight. 

The  British  bugles  could  be  heard  sounding  the  "Recall." 
Only  now  and  then  could  be  seen  in  the  inky  darkness  the 
flash  of  the  merciless  musket.  Night  had  come.  The  day 
of  death's  work  was  indeed  done.  What  of  tomorrow? 
Silence  reigned. 

The  overseer,  Mr.  Blaylock,  from  Mr.  Clark's  farm, 
walked  about  composedly  and  spoke  cheerfully  to  the 
"hands,"  and  the  servants  of  the  household  soon  were  at 
ease  by  witnessing  the  ladies'  nonchalance.  Three  relia- 
ble men  of  the  plantation  were  to  remain  up,  to  watch  the 
premises  and  be  ready  for  accidents.  Barney  slept  in  the 
hallway. 

May  went  to  her  room  in  much  agitation.  She  thought 
of  her  father.  The  killed,  the  wounded,  came  up  before 
her  mental  vision.  Did  they  need  help?  Would  Dr. 
Zollicoffer  be  pleased  to  have  some  old  linen  for  bandages? 


The  Halifax  Fight  293 

But,  above  all,  as  the  old  clock  ticked  and  struck  the  pass- 
ing hours,  there  was  a  constant  ringing  in  her  ears,  a  con- 
stant tingling  in  her  veins:  "Iredell!  Grimes!  Charge  once 
more!"  Whose  voice  was  that?  There  could  be  but  one 
voice  like  that.  "Mercy  guard  me!  That  was  Jean  Col- 
mey's voice.  That  voice  has  been  a  stranger  to  my  heart 
for  years,  that  voice  that  did  triumph  over  my  senses  and 
the  joy  I  had,  in  one  short  minute  in  his  presence,  has  out- 
lived devouring  time.  The  frost  lies  where  the  flowers 
have  been.  It  is  said,  'Come  not  between  the  dragon  and 
his  wrath';  but,  oh  time!  and  oh  space!  the  very  deeds  of 
love  have  come  before  me  at  the  sound  of  that  voice,  and  I 
do  without  reservation  commit  my  very  self,  my  infirmities, 
my  every  potency  of  power  to  that  shrill  commanding 
voice,  'Iredell!  Grimes!  Charge  once  more!'  Oh  God! 
immaculate,  supreme,  I  feel  that  my  heart  is  a  broken 
vessel,  and  that  Thou  hast  forsaken  me!  It  is  the  deal  of 
life  to  be  crucified.  If  I  have  loved  too  madly,  too  adora- 
bly, forgive.  Thou  art  God!  If  he  has  married,  for- 
gotten me,  if  his  manly  eyes  are  now  resting  affectionately 
upon  another,  I  bend  and  with  humble  tear  beg  that  he 
may  do  well.  I  kiss  the  rod  and  meekly  walk  beneath  it." 
The  morning  after  the  cavalry  fight  the  early  risen 
farmers  found  stray  horses  in  the  fields,  and  on  searching 
the  woods,  came  across  dead  and  wounded  men  of  the 
Tarleton  Legion. 


XLVIII 


THE  HORSE  AT  THE  WELL 

"Love  in  my  bosom,  like  a  bee, 
Doth  suck  his  sweet; 
Within  mine  eyes  he  makes  his  nest, 
His  bed  amidst  my  tender  breast." 

— Lodge. 

May  Montfort  spent  a  restless  night.  Thousands  of 
memories  came  trooping  up  and  passing  in  solemn  review. 
Here  at  her  age  of  life,  slightly  over  forty-two,  a  battle  had 
raged  around  her.  She  saw  men  in  actual  combat,  slash- 
ing and  sabering  one  another;  horses  reeling  from  sudden, 
violent  contact;  the  big-mouthed  guns  looking  like  brick 
kilns  at  night  time,  a-burning,  the  air  full  of  smoke.  She 
saw  men  fall,  their  swords  grasped  hard,  and  left  on  the 
field  dead  and  dying.     Horrid,  and  yet  sublime! 

Never  did  she  dream  she  could  witness  such  a  heart- 
rending scene.  She  would  ask  herself,  "Was  I  dreaming?" 
But  no,  it  was  no  dream.  That  voice  thrilled  her  very  soul. 
She  exclaimed  in  pain  and  suspense,  "Oh,  my  God!  can  it 
be  possible?"  Was  it  his  voice?  The  old  clock  faith- 
fully struck  the  daybreak  hour.  "Milly,  you  Milly!  Get 
up,  light  the  candle.  Now  go  down  after  water.  Break- 
fast must  be  looked  after  and  the  wounded  may  need  help. 
Milly,  do  wake  up  and  fetch  the  water!  I  want  to  bathe 
my  face  and  hunt  up  old  linen.  Dr.  Zollicoffer  may  come 
early.     Don't  you  hear  me,  Milly?" 

Day  was  breaking  and  the  morning  balmy,  and  the  ribald 
crows  were  cawing  over  the  fields.  Milly  went  down 
stairs,  stumbling  as  she  went,  half  asleep,  and  found  her 
way  to  the  well.     Mechanically  drawing  up   the  water, 

294 


The  Horse  at  the  Well  295 

wondering  what  made  her  mistress  make  herself  so  anxious 
about  sick  folks.  She  had  not  noticed  a  horse  that  had 
come  up  to  the  well  for  water.  His  low  whinny  made  her 
jump,  and  unthoughtedly  she  emptied  the  well-bucket  of 
water  into  the  large  deep  trough.  The  thirsty  animal 
sucked  greedily  and  partially  slacked  his  thirst,  and  whin- 
nied for  more.  Amazed,  she  poured  another  bucketful 
into  the  trough,  and  in  fright  she  ran  back  upstairs  to  her 
mistress.     "Oh,  mistis!  oh,  mistis!" 

"What  can  be  the  matter  with  you,  Milly?"  May  Mont- 
fort  thought  at  once  that  the  British  had  returned  and  there 
was  to  be  more  trouble. 

"Oh,  mistis!  mistis!  The  horse  at  the  well,  the  horse!" 
"Horse  or  horses?  How  many  of  them  are  there,  Milly?" 
"Oh,  my  mistis,  I  saw  that  horse  thirty  years  ago." 
"Thirty  years  ago! — you  Milly! — you  are  dreaming. 
Silly  goose,  you  are  hardly  that  old.  Wake  up  and  go 
bring  the  water." 

"I  can't.  I  can't  go.  I  am  scairt  to  death — I  am.  I 
don't  know  what  to  do — I  don't." 

Miss  Montfort  became  alarmed  at  Milly's  queer  fancies 
and  soothingly  questioned  her.  "Oh,  mistis,  it  is  the  same 
horse  he  rode  in  the  race  thirty  years  ago." 

"Come,  Milly,  we  will  go  after  the  water  together;  come 
along."  Down  the  stairs  they  went,  and  at  the  well  was  a 
coal-black  horse  with  a  white  mark  in  his  forehead. 

"Mercy  guard  me!  It  is  his  horse."  She  ran  to  the 
horse,  picked  up  the  trailing  reins,  saw  blood  over  the 
front  of  the  saddle,  one  hostler  was  empty,  and  the  horse 
showed  signs  of  hunger  and  tire.  "Run  and  call  mother — 
call  up  Barney."  She  went  up  to  the  horse,  placed  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  and  said  to  him,  "Oh,  tell  me,  where 
is  your  master?"  She  wept  aloud,  leaning  against  the 
horse.  Passing  through  the  grove  came  old  Uncle  Ben, 
calling  to  the  hands  to  "Get  out  to  work,  the  sun  is  nurly 
up." 


296  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Uncle  Ben,  Uncle  Ben,  come  here." 

"Oh,  my  mistis,  is  dat  you?" 

"Uncle  Ben,  call  all  the  hands  to  go  everywhere  and  look 
for  a  wounded  man  that  rode  this  horse.  Go,  go,  and  send 
them  out  everywhere." 

"Miss  May,  dar  is  a  man  in  my  house.  I  done  and  set 
up  all  night  wid  him.     He  raved  and  hollered  for  Remo." 

Barney  came  up  and  asked  what  was  wanted.  "Barney, 
take  that  horse,  unsaddle  him,  water  him  and  feed  him. 
Give  him  the  best  stall  on  the  place,  you  hear?  Uncle  Ben, 
you  and  Milly  come  with  me;  come  quick." 

"Mistis,  here's  rite  whar  dat  horse  jumped  over  the 
cedar  hedge — see  here."  Miss  Montfort  was  hastening 
to  Uncle  Ben's  large  and  well-built  cabin.  "Uncle  Ben, 
don't  tell  me  that  he  is  dead."  She  stopped  at  the  door 
and  imploringly  looked  the  gray-headed  slave  in  the  face. 
"He's  jes  about  so,  I  can  tell  ye." 

Uncle  Ben  went  in  ahead  and  then  Milly  and  Miss  Mont- 
fort stood  irresolute  on  the  outside.  The  sufferer  tossed 
and  cried  out  hoarsely,  "Remo!  Remo!"  In  a  moment  May 
was  in  the  room;  she  pushed  aside  his  thick,  damp,  gray 
hair,  clotted  with  blood.  "Oh,  my  Saviour!  it  is  Jean 
Colmey.  Uncle  Ben,  send  Donald  for  Dr.  Zollicoffer  to 
come  at  once." 

May  Montfort  was  a  woman,  and  with  a  woman's  heart; 
but  when  danger  had  to  be  faced  and  a  loved  one  was  at 
stake,  her  voice  became  clear,  and  her  hand  steady,  and 
her  brain  enterprising.  Here  in  her  hands,  at  her  mercy, 
lay  in  unconsciousness  the  human  being  in  all  the  world 
she  had  prayed  to  see  once  more.  "Good  Lord,  you  have 
answered  my  prayer."  Here  the  young  man  of  thirty 
years  ago  lay  in  a  slave's  cabin,  cared  for  as  best  they 
knew  by  her  father's  servants.  She  placed  her  left  arm 
under  his  head,  tenderly  and  kindly  caressed  his  blood- 
stained beard.     "Jean,  you  have  come  at  last." 

When  Dr.  Zollicoffer  looked  over  the  case  and  made 


The  Horse  at  the  Well  297 

partial  examination  on  the  spot,  he  had  to  unbutton  the 
Colonel's  coat  and  vest.  He  found  blood  on  his  left  side. 
On  further  investigation  he  found  a  flesh  wound  from  a 
pistol  ball.  On  further  search  the  Doctor  found  a  lady's 
large  locket  suspended  by  a  gold  chain  from  his  neck. 
Examining  more  minutely,  he  found  the  locket  had  saved 
his  life.  The  locket  had  been  struck  by  the  ball,  and  the 
mark  was  perfectly  indented  on  his  flesh,  just  over  his 
heart.  He  bluntly  remarked:  "Some  love  fancy  of  his, 
eh,  Miss  Montfort?     Some  love  dream." 

"Miss  May,  I  heard  the  fight  was  about  a  mile  below 
here,  and  that  it  was  brought  on  by  the  Americans  attack- 
ing the  British  rear.  I  must  think  it  was  this  officer  that  led 
the  charge  from  description,  and  he  is  severely,  if  not 
fatally,  wounded.  This  cut  here  across  his  head  was  done 
by  a  saber  and  at  close  fighting.  This  pistol  wound  through 
his  left  thigh  will  soon  heal.  Really,  with  your  help,  Miss 
May,  I  feel  confident  we  can  bring  the  Colonel  around. 
There  is  no  fracture  that  I  can  find,  there  can  be  no  contre- 
coup  from  the  symptoms.  I  had  to  shave  his  head  for 
cleanliness  and  to  get  the  dressings  properly  applied.  It 
is  concussion  from  a  stroke  or  from  a  fall  from  his  horse." 

The  Montfort  mansion  was  a  large  and  roomy  building, 
Colonial  style,  large  hallways  and  back  staircases,  situated 
in  a  large  red-oak  grove.  There  was  nothing  pretentious 
about  it;  it  was  a  plain,  strong,  well- finished  house  with 
large,  wide  verandas,  front  and  rear.  "Squire"  Montfort 
had  died  several  years  before,  and  his  widow  and  daughter 
and  an  old  housekeeper  were  the  occupants,  with  an  adjoin- 
ing room  for  Milly  and  a  side  room  where  Aunt  Selina 
slept  within  call  if  needed  by  her  old  mistress. 

"But,  Miss  May,  you  must  rest,  or  the  next  thing  I  shall 
have  two  instead  of  one  patient." 

"Please  become  more  calm.  A  chair,  a  chair,  Uncle 
Benson!     Sit  down,  Miss  May." 


298  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

When  the  locket  (her  locket)  was  handed  to  her,  and 
blood  clots  on  it,  she  became  pale  and  felt  as  if  she  would 
fall. 

"Miss  May,  go  get  the  room  arranged." 

May  hurried  on  ahead  of  the  Doctor  and  the  stretchers 
to  make  ready  the  southwest  upper  room. 

"Now  I  realize  that  Biblical  promise — the  weighty  im- 
port of  it — 'Wait,  wait  on  the  Lord  and  He  will  in  due 
season  give  thee  the  desires  of  thy  heart.' ' 

A  smile  of  saddened  gratefulness  overspread  her  face, 
as  she  carefully  wrapped  the  bloodstained  case  with  the 
crimson  colors  enclosed,  in  a  linen  handkerchief  and  placed 
it  in  her  jewel  box. 

"Just  to  think,  this  souvenir,  commemorative  of  the  race, 
saved,  for  a  time  at  least,  Jean  Colmey's  precious  life." 

"Miss  May,  the  Doctor  is  waiting  in  the  library  room  to 
give  you  instructions.     He  says,  please  come." 

Mrs.  Montfort  called  Barney  and  directed  him  to  ride 
over  to  town  and  ask  Dr.  Pasteur  to  come  at  once.  "Tell 
of  Colonel  Colmey's  mishap  and  that  Dr.  Zollicoffer  is 
here  in  attendance.  Hand  him  this  message."  She  in- 
formed Dr.  Zollicoffer  that  she  had  dispatched  a  messenger 
for  the  old  family  doctor.  In  about  two  hours  Dr.  Pasteur 
came  and  alighted  from  his  roomy,  well-topped  gig.  He 
came  slowly  up  the  steps  and  bore  some  of  his  weight  upon 
his  gold-headed  waddy.  He  was  well  preserved  for  a 
man  of  eighty  years  of  age,  and  somewhat  stilty.  After 
paying  duteous  courtesy  to  the  ladies,  he  went  at  once  to 
the  wounded  man.  Shaking  hands  cordially  with  Dr.  Zolli- 
coffer, "Ah!  Claude,  this  is  an  ugly  business.  How  is  his 
pulse?  Any  fever?  That's  good.  Have  you  shaved  his 
head  of  every  hair  near  the  wound?  Good!"  The  two 
men  seemed  to  be  on  the  most  amicable  terms  with  each 
other. 

"I  greatly  rejoice  to  have  my  very  dear  preceptor  with 
me." 


The  Horse  at  the  Well  299 

"Yes,  Claude,  I  am  glad  to  be  with  you.  I  often  think 
of  the  past  when  we  were  daily  together.  How  about  this 
wound  in  his  side?" 

"Dr.  Pasteur,  see  here  where  the  ball  was  deflected,  and 
I  can't  find  it." 

"Yes,  yes,  you  will  bring  him  around  all  right;  but  get 
him  upstairs  and  let  him  lie  north  and  south." 

"Doctor,  won't  you  come  with  us?" 

"No,  my  heart  is  becoming  unsteady  and  I  must  forego 
going  with  you." 

When  Dr.  Pasteur  was  ready  to  leave,  Dr.  Zollicoffer 
asked  him  if  he  had  any  further  suggestions  to  make. 
May  was  in  the  next  room,  hearing  all  that  was  said. 
"Well,  Claude,  I  would  advise  dressing  his  wound  with 
my  old  prescription:  wine,  oil,  and  brandy,  equal  parts. 
Claude,  later  on,  dust  with  borax  and  myrrh  quite  heavily. 
Yes,  and  further,  look  to  your  catheter  and  clysters,  and 
keep  a  watch  for  that  ball  in  his  side." 

"Would  you  recommend  a  large  dose  of  calomel,  Dr. 
Pasteur?" 

"Calomel!  Zounds,  no!   He  don't  need  to  be  weakened." 

"I  see  you  will  thump  mercury  whenever  it  is  recom- 
mended." 

"Give  senna  and  manna,  or,  if  need  be,  mandrake  and 
peach  jam." 

"For  his  restlessness  what  do  you  recommend?" 

"Cup  him  if  need  be  and  make  an  infusion  of  poppy 
leaves  and  hops." 

May,  in  the  next  room,  had  written  down  what  the  old 
doctor  said,  for  he  had  been  the  medical  adviser  of  the 
family  for  forty  years.  Mrs.  Montfort  gazed  reverently 
and  intently  at  the  white-haired  physician.  Returning  to 
the  room,  she  handed  to  Dr.  Pasteur  a  bottle  of  old 
Tawney  Port  wine.  "Take  this  to  your  delicate  wife  with 
my  compliments." 

"Thank  fbu,  madam;  old  port  is  my  favorite." 


300  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

May  handed  him  a  sealed  envelope  containing  two  five- 
pound  notes. 

"Oh,  May,  how  the  face  of  Dr.  Pasteur  carries  me  back 
to  the  time  when  I  was  young,  when  life  was  one  long  happy 
holiday!  He  was  at  our  wedding.  He  first  married 
Emily  Alston,  and  such  a  lovely  highbred  lady  she  was. 
The  Doctor's  second  marriage  was  a  fall-down.  He  mar- 
ried Camille  La  Casse — the  ultimity.  I  never  liked  that 
woman.  I  felt  she  was  to  me  an  ultramontane.  She 
always  dressed  as  gaudy  as  a  tragopan." 

"Why,  mother,  the  La  Casses  are  a  people  of  large 
wealth  and  I  have  always  heard  that  they  were  a  strong, 
worthy  family." 

"It  is  quite  commendable  in  you  to  speak  well  of  your 
neighbor,  but  all  the  same  she  was  not  the  woman  to  take 
the  place  of  Emily  Alston.  She  was  not  of  our  set.  Oh,  no, 
just  a  coddy-moddy." 

"Well,  mother,  you  kindly  sent  with  your  compliments 
a  bottle  of  port  to  his  wife." 

"I  would  be  but  little  happy  if  I  thought  her  gullet 
would  wash  down  that  fruity  wine.  I  know  Dr.  Pasteur 
well,  and  his  palate  will  gusto  that  gift." 

"Mother,  I  have  heard  that  Dr.  Pasteur  was  one  of  your 
first  suitors.  I  remember  now,  when  last  winter  in  town 
shopping,  his  wife  courtesied  in  a  most  friendly  manner  to 
me,  and  was  profuse  in  her  praise  of  my  black  fox  furs." 

"Did  you  expect  her  to  make  grimaces  at  you?  Now, 
tell  me  quick,  I  itch  to  hear,  with  what  grace  she  made  the 
morning  salutation,  for  I  am  constrained  to  believe  that  it 
would  take  a  couple  of  countesses  a  whole  year  to  teach  her 
how  to  be  trigged." 

"Oh,  mother,  I  can  but  think  the  good  body  makes  her 
husband  a  kind  wife,  and  that  she  is  without  any  impure 
blemishes." 

"You  would,  daughter,  for  argument's  sake,  siderealize 


The  Horse  at  the  Well  301 

Mrs.  Pasteur.  I  would  not  intimate  that  she  was  a  with- 
ered flower,  nor  that  she  deals  in  oeillades  with  beardless 
boys,  but  she  is  loud  mouthed,  saddle  nosed,  and  evermore 
mincing  virtue.  I  tell  you,  girl,  had  not  her  smock  been 
well  lined  with  golden  ducats  her  reechy  sides  would  never 
have  pressed  the  bed  once  graced  by  the  fair  form  of 
Emily  Alston." 

"Oh,  mother,  your  words  are  so  foreign  to  the  nobility 
of  your  character  and  your  mind,  that  I  am  surprised  and 
at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  agreeably  continue  our  conversa- 
tion. Let  me  ask  you,  doesn't  she  make  the  Doctor  an 
irreproachable  companion?  Didn't  she  bring  to  him  by 
marriage  a  large  dowry?" 

"No  one  charges  she  makes  a  disreputable  wife,  no  one 
denies  that  by  matrimony  the  Doctor  had  made  his  declin- 
ing years  years  of  comfort  and  elegant  ease;  but  just  the 
same,  silver  and  gold  may  adorn,  but  do  not  make  the  gen- 
tleman. You  forgot  to  mention  that  she  also  brought  to  the 
groom  a  fat  body  and  an  uncultured  mind  and  low  ideals." 

"Well,  mother,  'tis  said  men  are  not  destined  to  marry 
twice  wisely,  and  further,  let's  change  the  subject,  as  we 
can't  see  alike.  Coming  home,  if  any  one  thinks  of  me,  I 
reckon,  it  is  that  I  have  passed  my  meridian  mating  period, 
and  that  I  must  be  content  on  thinking  of  what  might  have 
been,  and  never  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  a  fender  with 
four  feet  thereon." 

"Oh,  my  daughter,  don't  talk  so;  you  have  not  passed  the 
limit  of  eligibility — no,  no.  There  is  Squire  Burton:  he 
is  handsome,  of  a  splendid  family,  well  educated,  a  man 
whom  everybody  holds  in  high  estimate;  he  is,  and  has  been 
for  years,  a  devoted  suitor." 

"True,  very  true.  I  have  often  on  bended  knees  asked 
to  be  shown  how  I  might  admire  him  enough  to  marry  him, 
but  no  light  of  that  kind  has  ever  been  granted  me.  My 
holiest   feelings    are   not    enlisted    toward    him,    and    my 


302  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

woman's  heart  recoils  at  a  profanation  of  love's  sacred 
temple." 

"May,  be  reasonable.  The  dearest  boon  I  would  have 
joy  grant  me  is,  to  let  me  see  you  ringed  and  wived  to  Mr. 
Henry  Burton.     Don't  go." 

The  mother  looked  at  her  daughter  yearnfully,  as  she 
walked  out  of  the  room.  "Poor  May!  she  dislikes  to  have 
Mr.  Burton's  name  mentioned  to  her.  I  can't  understand, 
to  save  me,  why  she  rejects  all  proffers  of  marriage." 

Musing  awhile,  Mrs.  Montfort,  in  deep  thought  said  in 
low  tones,  "What  does  this  portend,  the  coming  and  inva- 
sion of  our  home  by  the  bruised,  bleeding  body  of  Colonel 
Colmey?  It  is  difficult  to  look  in  the  eye  of  coming  events. 
One  thing  sure,  it  brings  a  change.  This  house  has  been  a 
lonely  place  for  years  to  me,  and  it  is  comforting  to  know 
when  night  falls,  and  all  nature  is  hushed,  that  there  is  a 
man  in  the  house,  even  if  he  is  badly  wounded ;  and,  for  a 
truth,  man  fears  man,  and  man  only.  Even  a  twelve-year- 
old  boy  saucily  pushes  aside  the  rulings  of  a  woman." 

Mrs.  Montfort  got  up  and  went  and  stood  by  the  east 
window.  She  said,  meditatively:  "Over  there  in  the  grave- 
yard sleeps  my  dear  husband  and  by  him  my  darling  boy. 
I  often  long  to  join  them  on  that  far-away  sunny  shore. 
If  May  was  only  cared  for,  what  a  weight  would  be  lifted 
off  my  hands  and  heart!  I  just  knew  something  unusual  was 
going  to  happen  certain  this  week,  for  the  rooster  crowed 
upon  the  back  porch  and  I  saw  the  new  moon  in  the  old 
apple  tree.  Ah,  me!  how  the  voice  of  Dr.  Pasteur  brought 
up  tender  memories  and  bitter  recollections!  Yes,  I  cer- 
tainly do  hope  he  enjoys  the  stinted  attentions  of  his  snow- 
goose,  his  chambermaid  of  a  wife.  A  LaCasse — ugh! 
And  here  I  am  with  my  widow's  wrappings  around  me. 
There  was  a  time — yes." 

Mrs.  Montfort  commenced  pacing  up  and  down  her  room. 
"He  remembered  when  I  was  Miss  Nan  Weldon — my 
mother  was  a  Miss  Johnstone;  and,  yes,  and  did  he  also 


The  Horse  at  the  Well  303 

bring  to  his  remembrance  when  my  smile  was  his  delight, 
when,  hid  in  the  inky  cloak  of  night,  he  would  ride  by, 
hoping  to  see  a  ray  of  light  from  my  bedchamber?  Ah, 
those  glorious  days!  Yes,  when  Gerald  Ambler  came  with 
his  spanking  grays  to  drive  me  here  and  there  at  my  nod; 
when  loving  Ned  Clark,  a  gentleman  to  the  manner  born, 
stood  speechless  when  I  frowned,  or  smiled  with  joy  when  I 
praised  him.  Heavens!  what  changes  come  unbidden  into 
a  woman's  life! 

"Oh,  woman,  highly  prized!  How  eagerly  sought  in  your 
young,  blooming  womanhood!  The  freshness,  the  spicery 
of  youth,  how  attractive  to  the  male!  But  when  the  sorrows 
of  age  have  furrowed  cheek  and  brow,  then  his  eyes  follow 
your  movements  no  longer.  How  I  once  was  loved,  how 
once  solicited — yes,  a  very  inspiring  power!  But  now  I  am 
a  wrinkled  pear,  untempting  even  to  the  hungry  palate. 
Oh,  woman,  with  an  oath-bound  protector! — oh,  woman, 
having  bound  to  you  with  Love's  binding  cords  of  steel,  and 
a  dauntless  mind  and  a  fearless  spirit — in  God's  name, 
cherish  and  love  him,  for  when  gone — ah!  listen — when 
living  you  sit  under  the  wide-spreading  warlike  beech  tree, 
but  when  he  dies  you  pass  your  days  beneath  the  cypress. 
The  strong  arm  is  now  lifeless,  the  loving  lips  cannot  now 
caress.  Yes,  when  Sidney  Montfort  lived,  who  so  haughty 
dared  molest  or  make  me  afraid?  Dear  loved  one  of  my 
youth,  how  I  love  to  linger  over  your  sweet,  sacred  mem- 
ory! Oh,  woman!  what  were  you  made  for,  if  not  to 
brighten  and  sweeten  the  life  of  man?  You  were  taken 
from  his  side  to  strengthen  him,  that  you  might  feel  that 
you  were  a  living  part  and  parcel  of  his  flesh.  Man  was 
not  made  for  woman,  but  woman  was  made  for  man.  All 
that  he  has  ever  asked  of  you  was  to  be  faithful,  amiable. 

"To  marry  again  is  foreign  to  my  nature.  What!  face 
Sidney,  having  been  in  another's  embrace?  God  forbid! 
The  very  marrow  in  my  bones  would  turn  to  stink-weed.  I 
loved  Emily  Alston.     She  was  in  the  whole  volume  of  the 


304  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

world  peerless  and  most  lovable.  For  a  man  to  turn  to 
simpler  and  low  things  that  he  may  pass  the  last  days  of 
his  life  in  the  enjoyment  of  wine,  walnuts,  and  venison — 
bah!  Nature  unerringly  prompts  him  to  be,  to  act  the 
man,  that  his  courage  should  meet  the  occasion  and  his 
last  years  be  squared  with  his  first.  There  can  be  no  mis- 
taking the  fact  that  duty  has  decreed  that  the  subtle  influ- 
ence of  woman  shall  be  one  of  the  controlling  powers  of 
this  mundane  sphere.     'So  to  the  cord  the  bow  is.' 

"From  my  observation,  a  widow  is  a  sunbeam  of  a 
sunken  sun,  a  frazzled  feather  of  a  hard  hacked  helmet,  and 
the  gravestone  monumentally  records  the  date  of  her  deca- 
dence. Her  faithful  champion  lies  sleeping  beneath.  And 
oh,  man!  the  so-called  universal  master,  you  are  God's 
earthly  representative.  Did  He  make  you  to  be  a  limitless 
lordling?  No.  Verily,  there  is  a  bound  even  to  the  bound- 
less sea.  He  fashioned  you  in  His  image,  and  the  world 
stands  subject  to  your  command.  Your  mission  is  divine, 
your  estate  great.  What  were  you  purposed  for?  Listen: 
it  is  to  be  a  defender  of  the  defenceless,  the  repletion  of 
the  downtrodden,  and,  above  all,  the  guardian,  the  lover, 
the  believer  in  the  purity  of  woman. 

"What  a  pity  that  even  in  his  declining  years  Dr.  Pasteur 
will  stop  and  listen  to  the  cry  of  the  poor.  What  calling 
is  so  noble,  so  self -forgetful?  But  he  can't  be  satisfied, 
because  that  LaCasse  woman  is  not  worth  a  miter  shell.  It 
was  not  her  red-gray  hair  that  won  him;  no,  nor  her  mokodo 
manners,  but  her  many  silver  rupees.  Thank  the  Lord!  I 
can  boast,  as  Anna  of  old,  I  am  the  wife  of  only  one 
husband. 

"It  is  the  old  story  of  the  Cock  of  the  Rock  mating  with  a 
brown  moor  hen — bah!  Oh,  well,  such  is  life.  It  is  re- 
grettable, but  surely  not  tragical.  Who  calls?  Wait 
there!" 


XLIX 


REMO  AND  MERLIN 

"This  temper  of  mind  would  exempt  a  man  from  an  ignorant 
envy  of  restless  men  above  him;  this  would  be  sailing  by  some 
compass,  living  with  some  design." — Addison. 

The  news  went  out  that  there  was  a  horse  at  Squire  Mont- 
fort's  place  that  was  forty  years  old.  The  curious,  both 
white  and  black,  wanted  to  see  that  aged  horse.  "Has 
you'uns  seen  that  forty-year-ole  hoss?"  Merlin  the  Fourth 
was  quick  to  recover  from  his  tire  and  gaunt,  and  his  shrill 
whicker  could  be  heard  a  mile.  He  was  restless,  he  seemed 
to  know  that  his  master  was  somewhere  in  trouble.  May 
had  him  brought  around  and  gave  him  salt  at  one  time,  and 
apples  and  sugar  at  another.  Merlin  soon  took  to  May 
and  would  follow  her  and  nozzle  her  hand  and  look  into 
her  face  for  more,  out  of  his  great  dark  eyes.  She  could 
acknowledge  Milly's  assertion  to  be  true,  that  he  certainly 
was  the  horse  or  the  foal  of  the  horse  that  raced  here  nearly 
thirty  years  ago. 

Remo  lost  his  horse  and  was  only  too  glad  to  get  away 
himself.  He  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  the  Colonel. 
He  saw  him  leading  his  men.  He  followed,  and  soon  in  the 
fight  everything  got  mixed  up.  Cries  of  distress,  oaths  to 
surrender,  sabers  flashing  and  cutting,  maulings  right  and 
left,  and  pistols  rapidly  firing.  Reinforcements  coming  up 
timely  for  the  British  forced  the  Battalion  back,  and  some 
men  were  left  dead,  some  wounded,  and  some  were  cap- 
tured. Colonel  Tarleton  inquired  of  Remo  who  his  master 
was,  and,  on  being  informed  that  he  was  Colonel  Colmey, 
Colonel  Tarleton  remarked,  "That  damned  rebel  crossed 
swords  with  me  at  the  passing  of  Neuse  River,  at  Adkins' 

20  305 


306  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

landing,  and  here  today  he  fought  like  a  mad  lion.  Say, 
didn't  he  get  hurt  by  any  of  my  men  today  in  his  close  devil 
charge?" 

"I  does  not  know,  sir." 

Colmey  struck  the  British  hard,  but  got  worsted. 

Dr.  Zollicoffer  came  late  in  the  afternoon  and  pleasantly 
remarked  that  he  had  been  unavoidably  detained.  "Miss 
May,  I  have  had  a  unique  experience  today.  I  was  sent 
for  to  see  a  sick  person,  and  going,  I  found  a  British  officer 
wounded  so  badly  that  he  had  been  left  behind.  Corn- 
wallis,  fearing  for  his  wounded  on  account  of  outrages 
perpetrated  by  his  troops,  had  publicly  hanged  a  dragoon 
and  sentry  to  pacify  the  rebels,  as  he  termed  it.  I  found 
Captain  Leighton  with  a  wound  through  his  chest  and  right 
side,  and  he  said  that  in  Colonel  Colmey's  cutting  his  way 
out  through  their  dragoons,  the  Colonel  ran  his  sword 
through  him,  and  he  struck  at  the  Colonel's  head  with  his 
saber.  He  said  the  doctors  had  the  sword  wound  washed 
in  brandy  and  alcohol  for  fear  infection  might  come. 
They  used  turpentine  and  balsam  compresses  afterwards; 
and,  wonderful  to  say,  he  is  going  to  get  well.  I  asked  to 
see  the  sword  and  I  privately  brought  it  away  with  me. 
Miss  May,  do  you  have  any  idea  where  the  scabbard  is  to 
which  the  sword  belongs?" 

Of  course  she  knew  that  the  scabbard  was  in  her  ward- 
robe, wrapped  up  in  flannel.  "I  think  I  can  have  it  found, 
Doctor.     Please  be  seated." 

Bringing  the  scabbard  with  her,  the  Doctor  slipped  the 
sword  back  into  its  old  resting  place.  "Well,  this  is 
romance  indeed.  The  Colonel  ran  the  Captain  through, 
and  the  Captain  cleaved  the  Colonel's  head,  and  they  both 
still  live  to  fight  again."  The  sword  had  on  it  "DeErlon," 
plainly  marked. 

"No,  Doctor,  we  have  had  enough  of  fighting." 

The  Doctor's  keen  eyes  rested  upon  her  face  for  a  mo- 


Remo  and  Merlin  307 

ment,  and  he  murmured  to  himself,  "Ah!  here's  more 
romance.     Miss  May  has  met  her  destiny." 

"Well,  Miss  May,  Cornwallis  has  crossed  Hicks's  Ford 
and  is  making  for  Petersburg  to  join  General  Phillips  and 
Benedict  Arnold.  If  the  Colonel  can  recover  in  due  season 
I  wouldn't  be  at  all  surprised,  being  so  mettlesome,  that 
he  will  be  seen  at  the  head  of  the  Battalion  again." 

May  Montfort  turned  deadly  pale  and  the  Doctor  noticed 
it,  and,  being  very  kind  hearted  and  tactful,  he  sternly 
remarked,  "I  shall  advise  the  Colonel  to  give  up  army 
life — he's  done  enough.  Yes,  I  think  I'll  bring  him 
around." 

Alone  in  her  room,  after  praying  fervently  for  strength 
and  wisdom  to  sustain  her  in  her  vigils,  she  asked  herself: 
"Am  I  sorry  or  am  I  glad  it  has  all  happened?  If  he  will 
only  live  and  know  me.  I  wonder  did  he  attack  the  Red- 
coats, to  drive  them  away  from  our  home?  I  wonder  did 
he  think  of  me?" 

That  night  about  nine  o'clock  Barney  called  to  his  mis- 
tress and  told  her  that  a  man  was  out  on  the  porch,  and  that 
he  said  he  was  Colonel  Colmey's  body-servant.  Mrs. 
Montfort  called  May  to  come  down.  Barney  informed  her 
of  the  waiting  man.  She  at  once  told  Barney  to  have  him 
come  into  the  lower  hallway. 

"Who  are  you?" 

"Mistis,  I  am  Remo,  my  master's  body-servant." 

"Who  is  your  master?" 

"He  is  Mr.  Colonel  Jean  Colmey,  who  was  up  here  about 
thirty  years  ago." 

May  Montfort's  woman's  curiosity  was  aroused;  she 
wanted  to  find  out  as  much  as  she  modestly  could  about 
Jean  Colmey's  past  and  present. 

"You  say  he  was  here  about  thirty  years  ago?  Were 
you  with  him?" 

"Yes,  mistis." 

"Are  his  father  and  mother  living?" 


308  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"No,  mistis." 

"Are  his  wife  and  children  well?" 

"Mistis  died  many  years  ago,  and  he  has  one  boy  and 
one  girl  living.  My  master  has  many  slaves  and  much 
land." 

May's  heart  thumped  dreadfully;  she  felt  that  she  could 
strain  his  children  to  her  heart  and  love  them  like  they 
were  her  own. 

"I  know  you  are  tired  and  hungry,  and  you  need  a  bowl 
of  wine." 

"I  had  rather  see  my  master,  mistis,  please." 

"Certainly.  Go  up  the  back  stairway.  Aunt  Selina,  get 
the  man  a  hot  supper  ready." 

Remo  slipped  off  his  muddy  boots  and  crept  up  after 
Milly.  Going  into  the  room,  the  Colonel's  face  was  turned 
toward  him.  His  haggard  appearance,  his  shaved  head, 
the  listless  look,  all  made  Remo  sob.  He  sat  down  by  him, 
took  his  hand  in  both  of  his,  and  sat  still.  May  left  them 
alone  and  went  down  to  see  that  a  good,  substantial  supper 
was  prepared  for  the  Colonel's  servant.  May  soon  found 
out  that  she  could  leave  the  Colonel  safely  with  Remo. 
He  had  fine  judgment  in  a  sick  room,  noiseless  and 
watchful. 

Dr.  Pasteur  had  come,  and  had  gone  over  the  case  with 
Dr.  Zollicoffer. 

A  few  days  after  the  wounded  man  was  installed  in  her 
home  old  Aunt  Selina  asked  if  "she  was  to  mend  the  gentle- 
man's close." 

"What  is  the  matter  with  them?" 

"Miss  May,  dey  is  torn  and  ripped,  and  a  hole  through 
his  left  pant-leg  is  to  be  sewed  up,  you  know." 

"Bring  them  all  to  me  upstairs  to  my  room." 

Never  before  in  her  life  did  she  touch  so  reverently  a 
gentleman's  clothes.  In  fact,  it  was  the  first  time  in  her 
life  she  felt  called  upon  to  do  tailoring;  but  now,  happy 


Remo  and  Merlin  309 

moment,  blessed  pastime,  to  touch,  to  hold  his  clothes.  The 
texture  of  the  goods  was  very  fine,  and  they  had  been  made 
to  order  in  Philadelphia. 

"Just  think,  here  I  sit,  mending  Jean  Colmey's  shot-torn 
clothes.  I  do  wonder  if  Carrie  Culpepper  Thompson  ever 
thinks  of  me?"  The  blood  on  his  coat  had  soaked  through, 
and  his  pants  were  bloody  here  and  there.  His  vest  was 
lined  with  heavy  yellow  silk,  and  sewed  into  the  left  breast 
of  the  coat  was  "Jean  Colmey,  Laurel  Ridge,"  and  in  his 
vest  pocket  and  on  his  pants  band  was  "Jean  Colmey, 
Laurel  Ridge." 

His  gauntlets  were  somewhat  worn,  and  she  noticed  that 
his  belt  and  boots  were  made  of  the  best  French  calfskin. 
After  mending  the  clothes,  after  carefully  cleaning  and 
ironing  them,  and  all  by  herself;  after  laying  them  on  her 
bed  to  look  over  and  reexamine,  she  laid  them  away  in  her 
wardrobe  and  silently  kissed  the  coat  collar  before  turning 
away  and  locking  the  wardrobe  door.  "No  menial  person 
should  have  had  his  clothes  to  mend  and  clean.  If  his 
dear  dead  wife  could  only  know  how  I  love  to  wait  upon 
him,  as  she  cannot!  Death's  dateless  night  has  left  him 
alone,  and  fate  has  now  left  him  with  me." 

"Miss  May,  I'se  done  found  de  Colonel's  big  pistol." 
Uncle  Ben  had  been  over  the  fields  and  woods  where  the 
fight  occurred,  looking  for  a  stray  gilt  nearing  her  farrow- 
ing, and  he  picked  up  a  large  and  a  small  pistol  and  two 
pairs  of  spurs,  one  broken  sword,  and  he  took  off  of  a  dead 
horse  a  good  saddle  and  accoutrements.  The  British  left 
four  badly  wounded  horses  and  the  country  people  took 
them  as  trophies.  Two  of  these  horses  were  so  badly 
bitten  and  pawed  that  they  could  get  about  only  very  slowly 
and  painfully.  When  Dr.  Zollicoffer  saw  Captain  Leigh- 
ton  again  he  spoke  of  these  lame  cavalry  horses.  The 
Captain,  in  a  serious  tone,  told  the  Doctor,  "Well,  it  came 
about  in  this  way;  when  Colmey's  Battalion  started  back, 
we  had  a  heavy  squadron  to  interpose  to  capture  or  kill 


310  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

him,  and  that  damned  black  stallion  of  his  fought  his  way 
through  our  lines,  biting  and  pawing  for  very  life  and 
liberty.  We  must  admit  Colmey  and  his  men  fought  like 
lions,  but  for  certain  he  will  pull  rope  if  Colonel  Tarleton 
gets  hold  of  him." 

When  Dr.  Zollicoffer  came  over  again  he  called  Remo 
and  asked  that  Merlin  be  brought  out  for  him  to  examine. 
He  found  a  sword  cut  on  his  head  between  his  ears,  a  cut 
deep  in  his  long,  thin  mane,  and  one  of  his  front  teeth 
broken.  The  Doctor  cleaned  out  his  wounds,  cut  off  the 
hair  closely,  so  Remo  could  use  turpentine  and  tallow 
mixed.  Patting  Merlin,  he  feelingly  exclaimed,  "What  a 
wonderful  horse !  And  to  think  he  knew  the  danger  of  his 
master."  Merlin  seemed  to  be  delighted  to  have  his  brav- 
ery extolled  and  his  power  expatiated  upon. 

"Doctor,  he's  ready  to  do  it  agin." 

"Well,  let  us  hope  that  he  and  his  master  will  never 
again  be  so  hazardously  situated." 

"Doctor,  Merlin  will  shore  do  his  part."  Remo  seemed 
anxious  for  Merlin  to  be  placed  in  the  full  light  of  ap- 
proval, to  be  ranked  with  Byard's  Bay  and  Sandoval's 
long,  leaping  chestnut  mare,  Motillo. 


WHITE  POPLARS 

"Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting; 
The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting." 

White  Poplars  was  one  of  those  old  colony  homes  in  Hali- 
fax, where  the  colonial  dame  had  servants  at  her  beck  and 
call,  provisions  in  abundance,  and  friends  coming  in  and 
going  out  to  be  waited  on  and  feasted;  one  of  those  few 
places  in  the  world  where  everything  went  smoothly  and 
timely,  where  the  exercise  of  hospitality  was  a  joy  indeed. 
The  plantation  never  seemed  to  get  tired  of  producing  great 
crops  of  corn  and  wheat,  of  poultry  and  cattle,  pigs  and 
potatoes,  all  multiplied  so  muchly  that  it  left  one's  heart 
nothing  to  crave  for  to  satisfy  the  inner  man. 

Here,  dear  Aunt  Henrietta  Gregory  lived,  and  May 
Montf ort  was  her  favorite  niece.  Here  smiles  and  laughter 
reigned,  and  early  morning  horseback  rides  made  White 
Poplars  to  May  an  earthly  paradise.  Here  the  Harvest 
Moon  was  celebrated,  here  the  Yuletide  ran  long  with  good 
cheer,  and  here  whole-souled  heartedness  never  ended. 

May,  since  the  coming  of  Colonel  Colmey  to  the  Manor, 
had  removed  her  sleeping-room  to  her  mother's,  downstairs. 
That  night  in  the  sitting-room  she  spoke  of  visiting  White 
Poplars. 

"I  noticed,  mother,  that  Remo  was  polishing  the  Colonel's 
boots  today,  and  I  have  heard  two  men  walking  together, 
keeping  step,  upstairs,  and  I  have  concluded  that  Colonel 
Colmey  will  be  coming  downstairs,  assisted  by  his  servant, 
in  a  day  or  two.     I  have  placed  his  uniform,  sword,  etc., 

311 


312  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

here  in  your  room.  When  he  calls  for  the  outfit  they  are 
there  by  your  wardrobe.  He  has  been  out  on  the  upper 
portico." 

"Daughter,  I  have  been  thinking  over  the  same  move- 
ment by  you  to  make,  and  going  to  your  aunt's,  I  think,  is 
not  the  least  objectionable." 

"Mother,  if  any  one  should  ask  for  me,  please  tell  them 
that  I  have  gone  to  see  auntie,  that  she  is  unwell.  You 
understand  me." 

"Yes,  I  hear  you.     When  do  you  go?" 

"I  want  to  carry  Milly  with  me,  mother,  in  the  morning; 
but  not  a  word  to  her  until  I  am  ready  to  start." 

Mrs.  Montford  was  soon  lost  in  the  land  of  dreams,  but 
May  could  not  sleep.  She  asked  herself,  "Am  I  making 
another  mistake?" 

By  sunrise  she  and  Milly  were  in  the  Quebec  Caleche, 
and  Barney  followed  on  old  Wallace.  Remo,  missing 
Milly,  inquired  of  Aunt  Nelly.  "Oh,  chile,  she's  gone  to 
de  White  Poplars  wid  young  mistiss,  'fore  youse  woke  up." 

"Remo,  you  say  Miss  Montfort  is  reported  to  be  visiting 
at  the  Poplars?" 

"Yes,  Marse  Jean,  and  it  was  all  done  in  a  hurry,  and 
what  worried  me  is,  Miss  May  is  to  be  there  for  a  whole 
week." 

Somehow,  Colmey  felt  intuitively  that  May  had  gone  to 
her  aunt's  because  he  was  getting  about.  Being  very  weak, 
it  made  him  feel  depressed  to  such  an  extent  that  he  became 
blind  and  dizzy.  "Remo,  quick!"  The  Colonel  fell  into  a 
deep  faint.  Remo  fondly  placed  him  upon  the  bed,  unfast- 
ened his  clothing,  and  applied  cold  cloths  to  his  forehead. 
He  slipped  downstairs  and  asked  Mrs.  Montfort  for  a 
strong  brandy  toddy  and  quickly  returned  to  the  bedside 
of  his  master.  Mrs.  Montfort  called  Mrs.  Tabb  and  sent 
her  up  to  ask  after  the  Colonel. 

"Ah!  Colonel,  I  thought  maybe  a  little  grape  might  make 
you  feel  stronger,  having  been  sick  so  long." 


White  Poplars  313 

"Thank  you,  madam.     I  do  feel  very  badly." 

Mrs.  Montfort  had  hastily  written  a  note  to  May  to 
"Come  home  at  once — Colonel  Colmey  was  not  doing  so 
well." 

Old  Rye  Patch  was  a  flea-bitten  gray,  but  Barney  moved 
him  lively.  In  less  than  an  hour  after  reading  the  note, 
May  was  in  her  mother's  cook-room  with  old  Aunt  Nellie. 

"Aunt  Nellie,  catch  a  plump  pullet  from  out  the  coop, 
and  dress  the  fowl  without  a  drop  of  blood  left  in  the  car- 
cass." The  fowl  was  secured,  feet  tied,  head  hanging 
downward,  and  Barney  with  a  sharp  knife  severed  the 
throat  to  the  neckbone,  thus  letting  escape  every  drop  of 
blood. 

"Now,  Aunt  Nellie,  one  of  your  very  best  soups.  Take 
your  own  time,  dear  old  aunty." 

When  Remo  brought  up  the  savory  dish  Colmey  thought, 
how  kind,  how  thoughtful  these  good  people  were  to  him, 
that  he  must  get  up  and  go  away,  that  he  was  too  much 
trouble  and  must  be  gone. 

"Marse  Jean,  I  feels  a  heap  better." 

"Well,  I  am  glad  to  hear  it;  and,  Remo,  we  must  be  gone 
from  here,  you  must  go  for  Uncle  Addison  and  the  light 
vehicle." 

"Marse  Jean,  Miss  May  has  come." 

"What?  when?" 

"Erbout  two  hours  ago,  sir.  Milly  told  me  Miss  May 
made  this  soup  herself,  sir." 

"Remo,  go  and  tell  Uncle  Addison  to  have  all  things 
ready  for  my  returning  to  my  uncle's  and  have  the  light 
carriage  and  pair  of  chestnuts  to  come  for  me;  tell  him  to 
have  things  in  shipshape.  I  feel  too  weak  to  try  horse- 
back. Have  Merlin  and  your  horse  and  blankets  ready 
and  in  place." 

After  Remo  had  departed  Colmey  sighed  heavily.  "I 
have  been  so  well  treated  here,  and  my  heart  is  here.  And 
this,  too,  is  to  pass  away." 


LI 


A  HASTY  RETURN  TO  HALIFAX 

"Vouchsafe  to  those  that  have  not  read  the  story 
That  I  may  prompt  them." 

Four  young  men  from  the  coastlands  belonging  to  the 
Battalion  had  been  furloughed  for  one  month.  They  made 
their  way  back  home,  parting  at  the  Big  Spring.  They 
were  to  assemble  again  on  the  twenty-eighth  day  to  return 
to  their  command,  supposed  to  be  at  Halifax.  Gland  had 
his  face  slashed,  Henderson  had  his  arm  broken,  Giles  had 
been  badly  wounded  in  the  ankle,  and  Williams  was  shot 
through  the  shoulder.  The  report  went  abroad  that  the 
Colmey  Battalion  were  all  captured  or  killed,  and  that 
Colonel  Colmey  was  cut  all  to  pieces. 

The  dreadful  rumor  spread  fast  and  far.  Very  many 
mothers  agonizingly  prayed  for  their  boys  and  the  fathers 
cursed  and  swore  that  "my  boy,  I  know,  fought  'em  like 
hell  while  the  fighting  was  on."  Mrs.  Carrie  Culpepper 
Thompson,  quick  to  hear,  heard  of  this  report,  and  hearing 
that  Lord  Cornwallis  was  making  for  Petersburg,  she  be- 
came nervous  and  requested  her  husband  to  make  prepara- 
tions for  her  to  go  and  see  her  people  right  away.  She 
made  good  time,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  days  she  was  in 
Halifax  once  more.  An  old  servant,  Uncle  Osborn,  was 
standing  at  the  big  gate  of  Colmey  Place,  answering  ques- 
tions put  to  him  by  a  lady  in  a  gig. 

"Is  your  master  at  home?" 

"No,  mistis." 

"Is  Mrs.  Colmey  home?" 

"No,  ma'am."  ' 

314 


A  Hasty  Return  to  Halifax  315 

"I  wish  to  drive  in  for  a  while;  will  you  please  open  the 
gate?"  Sitting  down  on  the  veranda,  she  asked  old  Uncle 
Osborn  "where  were  his  folks." 

Tears  came  into  the  old  man's  eyes. 

The  old  slave  held  his  head  down  and  said  with  a  sigh, 
"Both  done  and  dead,  ma'am." 

"What!  Colonel  Colmey  killed?  Oh,  it  can't  be  so! 
How  wrong  I  treated  him  and  May!  And  Cousin  Tom 
was  killed  near  Alexandria.  Merciful  Father,  forgive  me. 
I  wish  I  hadn't."  After  resting  for  an  hour  and  thinking 
it  over,  she  decided  to  drive  by  and  see  May  Montfort, 
although  down  in  her  heart  she  felt  ashamed  and  guilty  to 
look  May  in  the  face. 

"May  always  thought  I  had  done  something  to  drive 
Colmey  hastily  away;  but  I  did  love  her  so,  and  knowing 
Tom  was  a  good  chance,  I  did  wrong  and  told  a  downright 


?> 


Driving  up  to  the  grove,  old  Uncle  Ben  called  Barney, 
and  Milly  ran  and  told  her  mistress  "some  lady  and  gentle- 
man had  come." 

"May  Montfort,  don't  you  know  me?" 

"Carrie  Culpepper  or  her  ghost!  Come  in,  I  am  so  glad 
to  kiss  you  and  have  you  with  me." 

"May,  this  is  my  youngest  son,  Colmey  Thompson.  We 
named  him  after  Frank's  best  friend,  but  I  have  heard 
awful  news  about  him,  that  he  was  killed  a  few  weeks  ago 
near  Halifax  Courthouse." 

"Well,  you  must  stay  with  me,  Carrie,  a  few  days,  or  a 
few  weeks,  as  it  is  dangerous  to  go  towards  Petersburg  just 
at  this  time." 

"I  heard,  May,  that  Colmey's  Battalion  was  all  killed  or 
captured.     Is  it  so?" 

"No,  Carrie.  Major  Iredell  took  command,  and  they 
made  things  hot  for  the  Redcoats  until  they  crossed  beyond 
Roanoke  River." 


316  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"You  don't  tell  me  so!  Where  did  they  bury  Colonel 
Colmey,  May?" 

"Bury  Colonel  Colmey?  He  is  upstairs,  getting  better 
every  day." 

"May,  you  paralyze  me  with  joy.  Oh,  thank  the  Lord 
he  is  spared  and  that  he  is  here." 

"Yes,  he  was  shot  and  sabered  severely,  and  left  for 
dead ;  but  Dr.  Zollicoffer's  skill,  with  the  blessing  of  Provi- 
dence, has  brought  him  around." 

"And  add,  please,  helped  and  assisted  by  prayer  and 
faithfulness  of  May  Montfort."     May's  face  was  scarlet. 

After  supper,  sitting  in  the  library,  Mrs.  Thompson  told 
May  her  past  history,  of  her  children,  of  the  farm,  and  how 
she  enjoyed  being  near  the  beautiful  lake  and  the  wonder- 
ful Big  Spring.  "May,  you  come  now  and  go  back  home 
with  me;  don't  say  no." 

"How  can  I  leave  my  aged  mother,  Carrie?  She  needs 
me  every  day." 

"That's  so.  Well,  maybe  some  time  you  can,  and  do 
come  and  stay  if  you  will.  May,  Colonel  Colmey  is  a  wid- 
ower, and  has  the  most  lovely  daughter  I  ever  knew.  Her 
name  is  May  Belle,  and  his  boy  is  fine,  too,  and  he  is  con- 
sidered very  wealthy." 

May  would  have  been  glad  to  have  heard  Carrie  talk  all 
night,  but  she  felt  that  Carrie  was  watching  her,  and  she 
wanted  to  get  away. 

Dr.  Zollicoffer  came  and  asked  May  if  she  would  get  him 
"some  clean  dressings,"  and  she  gladly  left  Carrie  to  her 
thoughts  and  past  remembrances. 

The  anxiety  of  Mrs.  Thompson  induced  her  to  incur  the 
risk  of  venturing  toward  Petersburg  to  get  tidings  of  her 
people.  May  made  every  effort  to  persuade  her  to  stay, 
but,  saying,  "Good-bye,  I'll  come  by  later,  May,"  she  and 
her  son  took  the  Weldon  road  for  Roanoke  River  and 
pressed  forward  for  Chesterfield.     When  her  friend  had 


A  Hasty  Return  to  Halifax  317 

gone  May  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief;  she  feared  Carrie. 
Carrie  had  been  her  bad  luck  in  the  past,  she  had  no  wish 
to  have  a  repetition  in  the  future.  She  had  not  been  up- 
stairs in  the  sufferer's  room,  only  under  restraint,  since 
Carrie  came;  but  now  she  was  free  to  act  without  feeling 
she  was  watched  and  weighed. 

Close  friends  of  thirty  years  ago,  May  could  not  be  so 
friendly,  as  the  years  had  come  and  gone  between  them. 
They  had  grown  away  from  one  another,  and  sadly,  lastly, 
we  realize  that  the  friends  of  our  youth  have  the  same 
name,  the  same  voice,  yet,  like  the  springtime  flowers  in 
the  late  afternoon  of  life,  you  find  them  faded  and  not  so 
fragrant — a  change  has  come.  Carrie,  at  her  Chesterfield 
home,  was  called  the  "Chesterfield  Beauty,"  and  May  was 
called  "Lady  Fair  of  Halifax"  at  her  country  home.  At 
the  Colmey's  she  had  whispered  her  hopes  and  her  little  dis- 
appointments to  the  Carrie  of  days  long  gone  by;  but  now 
May  was  much  older,  she  had  been  taught  by  bitter  experi- 
ence to  keep  her  counsel  and  control  her  every  gesture. 
There  was  nothing  left  between  them  but  love's  faded  roses. 
Her  suitors  had  been  many,  but  she  was  resolved  that  her 
hand  only  went  where  the  heart  had  already  gone.  About 
thirty  years  ago  a  light  came  into  her  life  that  neither  time 
nor  absence  could  dim  nor  destroy. 

"Miss  May,  won't  you  please  come  upstairs."  Remo 
was  standing  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  waiting  for  her. 

"What  is  wanted?" 

"Miss  May,  I  can't  do  anything  with  master." 

May  almost  jumped  into  the  room,  Milly  following  her. 
Colonel  Colmey  was  groaning,  and  in  his  moans  he  called 
his  children  by  name,  and  seemed  trying  to  realize  his 
condition.  May  took  his  hand  between  hers  and  said  to 
him  softly,  "Be  still,  go  to  sleep.  I  will  sing  for  you  if 
you  will  go  to  sleep."  Like  the  wand  of  a  magician,  he 
became  quiet  and  dropped  off  into  a  deep  sleep. 


318  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

When  Dr.  Zollicoffer  came,  on  questioning  Remo  as  to 
his  master's  resting,  sleeping,  etc.,  Remo  narrated  what  had 
occurred.  The  old  Doctor's  black  eyes  twinkled.  "Ah! 
you  say  so,  Remo?  Well,  don't  get  alarmed.  It  is  a  good 
sign.  I  will  soon  have  him  out."  May  heard  the  Doctor's 
jubilant  remarks  to  Remo  and  mentally  ejaculated,  "The 
Lord  grant  it,  I  pray." 

The  laity  may  think  that  if  a  patient  is  "good  pay,"  a 
"high  flyer,"  "top  of  the  pot,"  a  doctor  never  tires  of 
attending  him  or  her;  but  it  is  exactly  the  reverse.  After 
constant  attendance  for  several  weeks  a  doctor  gets  anxious 
for  his  case  to  get  well  so  he  can  discharge  it.  Dr.  Zolli- 
coffer had  been  in  practice  over  twenty  years;  and  night 
and  day,  storm  and  sunshine,  unless  down  in  bed  sick,  and 
that  was  seldom,  he  was  alive  to  his  calling.  Lying  awake 
the  night  after  his  visit  to  the  Colonel,  his  conversation 
with  Remo  came  up  before  him.  He  got  up  and  made 
himself  a  brandy  toddy  of  "Old  Nash"  and  grated  nutmeg. 
"Now  I  shall  sleep;  I  have  a  nightcap."  But,  oh,  no,  the 
Colonel  and  Remo  would  not  down  and  out.  "Ah!  now  I 
have  it — fine — that's  the  thing — fine!"  He  fell  into  a 
heavy  slumber  and  awoke  barely  in  time  to  dress  for  break- 
fast. The  Doctor  had  concluded  to  use  Miss  May  and  her 
music. 

A  happy,  dreamy  feeling  had  come  over  May  Montfort. 
Her  mother  noticed  the  change,  and  then  Milly,  and  then 
the  old  housekeeper.  The  old  lakelike  look  of  clearness 
had  come  back  into  her  eyes,  her  voice  was  now  full  of  the 
old,  sweet  melody,  and  her  straight,  graceful  figure  was 
more  lithe  and  gay — willowy.  Going  into  the  garden, 
among  the  rapidly  growing  mignonette  and  pansies,  her 
voice  now  and  then  could  be  heard — full,  resonant,  con- 
fiding. 

Why  this  change?  A  new  life  was  flowing  through  her 
veins;  a  new  rose  tint  had  come  again  to  her  velvet  cheek; 


A  Hasty  Return  to  Halifax  319 

her  soft,  rich,  golden  hair  had  taken  on  a  more  sunshiny 
brightness,  and  her  step  was  as  of  a  woman  with  a  purpose. 
May  was  standing  under  the  old  apple  tree,  the  one  from 
which  her  mother  and  father  had  for  thirty  years  gathered 
fruit  together — it  was  their  favorite  apple  tree.  The  old 
gardener  asked  her,  "Miss  May,  does  yer  'tend  to  have  all 
de  lilies  dug  up  and  thro  wed  out  of  de  garden?" 

"Oh,  no,  let  them  remain." 

"Well,  you  told  me  to  dig  down  this  yer  sweet-shrub  bush 
and  throw  it  out." 

"Oh,  no,  let  that  remain,  too." 

The  old  man  looked  queerly  at  his  young  mistress. 

When  Doctor  Zollicoffer  left  home  that  morning  to  take 
his  rounds  he  took  with  him  a  small  bell  and  a  long  cord. 
Milly  opened  the  front  door  for  him  and  preceded  him 
upstairs.  "Miss  May  told  me,  sir,  that  if  she  was  needed 
she  would  be  in  the  library." 

"Well,  Remo,  how  is  it  this  morning?' 

"He  sleeps  some  and  he  rolls  some,  sir. 

The  Doctor  critically  examined  his  patient.  He  listened 
to  his  breathing,  felt  of  his  pulse,  laid  his  hand  over  his 
heart,  ran  his  hands  slowly  over  his  feet.  Looking  at  his 
watch  it  ticked  10:30.     "I'll  try  it." 

"I  hope  you  are  feeling  much  better  today,  Mrs.  Mont- 
fort." 

"Yes,  sir;  and  bitter  enough,  Doctor,  was  the  last  medi- 
cine you  sent  me." 

Miss  May  was  embroidering  a  scarf  for  her  mother  near 
by  the  east  window. 

"Miss  May,  I  have  an  idea,  and  I  wish  your  co-operation. 
It  is  this:  while  you  and  Mrs.  Thompson  and  others  were 
visiting  at  the  Colmey's,  do  you  remember  any  of  the  songs 
you  sang  while  there?" 

"Yes,  sir." 


320  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  play  and  sing  one  of 
those  old  songs  again?" 

"Well,  Doctor,  for  the  last  several  years  I  have  put 
aside  song  and  music,  but  when  informed  of  your  idea  I 
might  see  a  way  to  assist  as  best  I  could." 

"Miss  May,  I  think  Colonel  Colmey  is  reaching  out  in 
the  solitude  of  semi-consciousness  for  something  tangible 
to  seize  upon,  to  spring  him,  if  I  may  so  use  a  term,  back 
again  on  his  feet  mentally.  I  believe  one  of  the  old  songs 
and  music  of  his  young  manhood  is  the  sine  qua  non 
needed." 

May  hesitated,  said  nothing.  Mrs.  Montfort  thought  for 
a  minute  and  remarked,  "Daughter,  if  it  would  help  at  all 
the  gentleman's  mental  condition,  I  can  see  no  impropriety 
in  your  lending  aid  to  the  Doctor's  idea." 

Did  she  remember  an  old  song,  some  of  the  old  music, 
at  the  Colmey's?  Has  she  hardly  thought  of  anything 
since?  May  Montfort's  heart  beat  tumultuously.  Can  I 
sing  again  one  of  those  songs  he  once  loved  to  hear?  Can 
I  trust  myself?  "Well,  Dr.  Zollicoffer,  if  mother  thinks 
there  can  be  no  hurt — if  no  good  is  done  by  my  singing — I 
will  do  my  best  to  sing." 

"Miss  May,  I  will  attach  a  little  bell  to  your  instrument, 
and  when  I  ring  it,  please  commence,  and  when  I  ring  it 
again,  please  desist." 

The  Doctor  went  up  in  the  sufferer's  apartment;  he  closed 
all  the  windows,  pulled  the  curtains  close,  darkened  the 
room,  had  two  candles  lighted,  and  had  Remo  to  sit  at  his 
master's  side.  The  door  was  left  ajar.  Dr.  Zollicoffer 
went  in  the  hallway,  where  he  had  his  bell  on  a  cord,  and 
May  went  into  the  parlor  with  a  gloomy  countenance  and 
in  breathless  expectancy.  She  chose  "What  Ails  This 
Heart  o'  Mine?"  the  song  once  sung  by  Colmey.  May 
thought  at  the  time  that  he  meant  it  for  her,  but  he  sud- 
denly went  away  and  remained  away  for  many  a  year. 


A  Hasty  Return  to  Halifax  321 

The  bell  tinkled.  She  sat  down  to  the  instrument,  ran  her 
trembling  hands  over  the  keys,  then  gaining  confidence, 
hoping  to  help  one  dearer  than  life  to  her: 

"What  ails  this  heart  of  mine? 

What  ails  this  watery  e'e? 
What  gars  me  a'  turn  pale  as  death, 

When  I  take  leave  of  thee? 
When  thou  art  far  away, 

Thou't  dearer  grown  to  me — " 

The  bell  was  suddenly  jerked — stop. 

"Remo,  my  pantaloons  and  my  boots." 

"Master,  don't  get  up  yet;  please  lie  down  until  day." 
He  gazed  all  around  the  room.  "Why  are  those  candles 
burning?  Remo,  I  heard  a  song  and  music.  Where  am  I 
Remo?" 

The  bell  tinkled  softly  again.  May  was  now  in  com- 
plete possession  of  her  voice  and  she  threw  her  heart  and 
soul  into  the  old  song: 

"When  I  go  out  at  e'en, 

Or  walk  at  morning  air, 
The  rustling  wind  will  seem  to  say, 

I  used  to  meet  thee  there. 
Then  I'll  sit  down  and  cry, 

And  lie  beneath  the  tree, 
And  when  a  leaf  fa's  i'  my  lap, 

I'll  ca't  a  word  frae  thee." 

May  heard  now  such  loud  voices  up  in  the  Colonel's 
room  that  she  stopped  singing  and,  going  out  in  the  hall- 
way, she  heard  Jean  Colmey's  voice  distinctly:  "Remo, 
that  is  Miss  May  Montfort  singing;  go  and  see,  go  on, 
Remo!     Who  are  you?" 

"Ah!  Colonel,  I  am  your  friend  and  surgeon,  Dr. 
Zollicoffer." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  recollect  now — that  heady  charge — yes, 
trying  to  regain  our  lines — yes,  I  was  cut  across  my  head 

21 


322  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

and  fell  from  my  horse  in  the  deep,  dark  woods.  Doctor, 
where  am  I?     Am  I  at  my  uncle's?" 

"No,  sir,  you  are  at  the  Squire  Montfort  place.  Don't 
talk  any  more  now." 

"One  word  more:  wasn't  that  Miss  May  Montfort's 
voice : 

"Yes."  The  old  Doctor  went  downstairs  in  glee;  he 
rubbed  his  hands,  he  smiled — he  was  happy.  May  sat  at 
her  embroidery  and  her  mother  was  watching  the  pigeons 
as  they  dived  and  swerved  in  midair. 

"Miss  May,  the  day  is  won  gloriously.  That  song  of 
yours  has  brought  Colonel  Colmey  back  to  his  former 
mentality.  Miss  May,  he  asked  me  if  that  wasn't  your 
voice,  that  he  recognized  the  song,  and  if  you  were  near. 
I  told  him  yes.  Ladies,  good  evening."  The  Doctor  went 
out  and  left  mother  and  daughter  in  tears. 

"May,  my  daughter,  the  Lord's  hand  is  in  all  this." 
May  placed  her  arm  around  her  mother's  neck.  She  then 
went  out  into  the  garden  and  sat  down  on  the  little  rustic 
bench  in  the  leafy  shade  of  the  old  apple  tree.  She  wanted 
to  be  alone.  She  bent  her  head  and  prayed  in  heart- 
thankfulness.  "He  is  himself  again,  he  recognized  the  old 
love  song,  he  asks  if  I  am  near.  I  can't  visit  his  room  any 
more;  but  he  is  near  me  and  I  am  near  him."  After  sup- 
per Remo  handed  May  a  note: 

Dear  Miss  May: 

You  will  never  know  how  grateful  I  am  to  you  for  that  old 
Scottish  song.  It  awoke  sleeping  memories  of  days  long  past 
and  gone.  Ever  sincerely, 

Jean  Colmey. 

May  handed  it  to  her  mother. 


LII 


IN  MRS.  MONTFORT'S  ROOM 

"Beauty  is  Nature's  coin,  must  not  be  hoarded, 
But  must  be  current,  and  the  good  thereof 
Consists  in  mutual  and  partaken  bliss, 
Unsavory  in  tK  enjoyment  of  itself; 
If  you  let  slip  time,  like  a  neglected  rose, 
It  withers  on  the  stock  with  languislid  head." 

— Milton. 

That  night  all  three  of  the  women  were  in  Mrs.  Mont- 
fort's  bedroom  and  full  of  talk.  "Now,  Carrie,  you  have 
been  maid  and  matron:  is  your  voice  for  or  against 
marriage?" 

"No  single  blessedness  for  me.  May  should  either 
resolve  to  cast  aside  her  squeamishness  or  take  the  veil." 

"What!  Is  a  woman  to  be  shut  up  in  a  nunnery,  behind 
thick  walls  and  grated  windows,  because  she  loves  her 
personal  freedom,  prefers  to  take  nature's  fresh  air  when 
it  so  pleases  her?  Don't  you  think  that  I  have  passed  the 
beistings  period?" 

"Oh,  May!  such  casuistry  well  becomes  a  votary  of  celi- 
bacy, but — " 

"Bless  you,  Carrie!  If  I  was  foreordained  to  be  a  celi- 
bate, I  accept  my  destiny  cheerfully." 

"Carrie,  you  and  May  listen  to  me.  The  primary,  the 
Edenic,  edict  was  for  holy  wedlock.  Celibacy  is  as  the 
mistletoe  seen  at  festivities — as  a  passive  spectator,  but 
not  as  an  active  participant.  The  murmuring  rivulet  makes 
heavenly  music,  but  it  is  the  broad,  deep  stream  that  bears 
the  burden  of  commerce  and  binds  together  the  humanity 
of  the  world." 

323 


324  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Well,  mother,  let  us  hope  that  I  am  an  apple  of  winter 
growth,  to  be  gathered  late." 

"Oh,  May,  you  have  at  your  finger-ends  right  now  three 
exceptionally  good  chances.  Don't  throw  away  your  life's 
opportunities.     Don't  become  a  harridan." 

"Carrie,  you  and  mother  think  I  should  choose  my  part- 
ner at  once  and  enter  the  dance;  but  no,  not  yet.  You  are 
still  harping  on  a  husband,  Carrie.  For  conscience's  sake, 
peace!  Rein  in  your  flighty  steed,  Imagination,  and  tie 
down  close  to  the  post  of  Reason.  As  this  may  be  our  last 
sweet  commune,  let  me  beg  you  to  care  more  for  the  Great 
Day  of  future  accounts. 

"As  for  me,  there  is  but  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  bap- 
tism, one  heart,  one  love,  and  only  one  marital  mate.  I 
see  the  finger  of  time  points  to  twelve  and  thirty  past. 
Now,  merciful  God,  rest  all  Christian  souls  from  every 
cankering  care.  I  am  going  to  bed.  Tomorrow  has  its 
duties.     Oh,  my  hair!" 

"Let  me  help  you.  This  silk  net  is  barely  large  enough 
to  contain  comfortable  such  a  full  head  of  rebellious 
tresses.  Oh,  my!  May,  I  do  believe  your  stole  is  finished 
back  and  front  with  Cluny  lace.  By  the  Holy  Rood,  there 
is  about  you  something  enslaving.  Ah!  such  a  splenetive 
as  you  are — such  obduracy;  you  should  be  enforced,  so 
that  a  copy  of  such  loveliness  should  not  be  lost  to  the 
world." 

"It  seems  just  now,  Carrie,  that  I  am  to  pass  my  exist- 
ence in  maiden  meditation.  The  one  may  come  in  due 
time  and  unloose  the  Gordion  knot,  and  he  will  find  me 
lilaced  and  steadfastly  hooped  in  hope.  Carrie,  let's  go 
to  bed;  I  am  getting  downright  sleepy." 

"May,  you  sleep  too  much;  you  do.  Listen,  child,  we 
must  be  ever  alert  to  hold  supremacy  over  the  man.  Our 
portcullis  must  ever  be  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to  be 
lowered.  That  makes  him  rant  and  beg.  I  tell  you,  I 
had  rather  be  Lady  Macbeth,  whetting  my  husband  on  to 


In  Mrs.  Montfort's  Room  325 

win  a  throne,  if  but  for  a  day,  than  to  have  acted  the  part 
of  Penelope — undoing  her  knitting  at  night,  putting  off 
suitors — patiently  awaiting  the  return  of  her  roving  warrior 
lord." 

"Now,  girls,  it  is  fairly  understood  that  what  is  dis- 
coursed upon  here,  to  while  away  the  time,  is  not  to  be 
divulged.  This  consorting  with  black-hued  night  suggests 
to  me  that  I  should  be  priestess,  and  you  two  my  vestals. 
Carrie,  you  lead  off.  You  know  there  are  of  womankind 
three  distinct  species,  and  of  each  many  subdivisions." 

"Mrs.  Montfort,  I  take  it  you  are  one  of  the  commanding 
kind ;  you  wish  to  be  the  castellane,  your  scepter  by  tactful 
terms.  I  am  a  henchman.  I  wish  to  be  there,  I  want  my 
hand  in  the  struggle,  my  voice  to  be  heard  if  an  alliance 
offensive  or  defensive  is  entered  into.  May  is  an  armor- 
bearer.  She  loves  to  hear  in  the  hallway  the  masterful 
speech  of  a  man,  see  his  hat  on  the  rack,  listen  to  his  rap 
of  a  tramp  through  the  hallway.  She  is  one  of  those  who 
by  her  very  mold  and  frame  is  voted  to  wear  the  lilac  for 
her  flower." 

"Well,  Carrie,  why  should  not  the  one  formed  out  of  the 
rib  of  the  sleeper,  who  had  been  fashioned  in  the  image  of 
God,  and  who  had  been  given  mastery  over  sea  and  land, 
why  should  not  she  be  loyal,  be  loving — yea,  submissive — 
to  such  a  being;  that  is,  if  such  a  one  to  one's  liking  could 
be  found?" 

"Yes,  well  said — to  one's  liking.  Mrs.  Montfort,  you 
would  like  a  full  orchestra  and  let  you  be  the  guiding 
spirit." 

"I  would  like  my  husband  to  play  the  bow,  while  I 
touched  the  guitar;  and  poor  May,  she  would  delight  in  her 
man  fingering  the  silver  keys  of  his  ivory  flute  while  she 
rested  her  head  upon  his  manly  knee.  Now,  May,  is  it 
not  so?" 

"If  married,  my  husband  would  be  to  me  as  a  shining 
sun  by  day  and  my  shield  by  night." 


326  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Now,  girls,  let  me  have  a  say.  We  must  standardize 
men  by  Holy  Writ.  Take  Adam.  His  perfectness  has 
never  been  surpassed  by  man.  He  foreswore  Paradise 
rather  than  be  bereft  of  Eve,  that  paragon  of  womanliness. 
Why?  She  was  the  kernel  and  he  was  the  peach?  She 
attracted,  she  suited  him,  she  intissured  his  every  fiber. 
She  had  broken  divine  law,  yet  in  her  precious  companion- 
ship he  had  found  silent  joys  the  world's  entirety  could  not 
replace.  Take  Abraham.  Rather  than  surrender  Sarah, 
he  lied  because  in  her  he  had  foimd  his  soul  and  his  body's 
well-fitting  complement.  Poor  David  clung  to  Bathsheba 
if  she  had  set  aside  divine  and  social  laws.  He  made  her 
a  queen,  and  her  son  a  king.  Why?  Because  she  filled 
up  in  his  royal  heart,  a  line  of  repair,  no  other  woman  ever 
did.  And  with  all  reverence,  even  the  Son  of  God  Himself 
sought  comfort  at  Martha's  humble  home,  soothed  His 
heavily  loaded  heart  by  the  love,  the  appealing  presence 
of  the  sweet-faced  Mary,  whose  delight  was  to  sit  at  His 
feet  and  listen  lovingly  to  the  glad  tidings  of  everlasting 
life.  Man  loves  woman  because  she  attracts — she  is  his 
other  self,  his  counterpart." 

"Mrs.  Montfort,  you  should  prefer  the  role  of  Deborah. 
I  would  play  Esther,  and  May  would  be  Ruth,  satisfied  to 
be  at  the  feet  of  her  lord.  Mrs.  Montfort,  if  May  were  to 
see  her  lord  struck  down  by  his  antagonist,  she  would  quail, 
surrender  his  armor  and  herself  to  the  conqueror — she 
certainly  would." 

"No,  never!  I  would  be  only  satisfied  when  I  could  lap 
his  heart's  blood.    We  so  often  judge  others  by  ourselves, 

C;      >» 
arne. 

"Ha!  Oh,  what  a  murderous  scintillation  is  in  your 
eye!  Oh,  May,  how  changed  your  every  feature!  Fury 
is  in  your  face." 

"Well,  it  is  growing  late.  Let  contentment  come  into 
our  hearts  and  all  the  turmoils  be  now  forgotten  as  we  bow 
our  heads  for  His  benediction.     It  would  be  well  for  both 


In  Mrs.  Montfort's  Room  327 

of  you  to  remember  that  from  Eve  down  to  the  present 
time,  woman  is  a  power  only  when  she  exercises  her  wom- 
anly qualities;  she  is  then  a  potency  irresistible." 

"May,  please  explain  to  me  what  you  meant  when  you 
said  you  would  want  the  blood  of  your  husband's  ad- 
versary." 

"Just  this:  when  Hymen's  torch  was  lighted  and  we 
stood  side  by  side  to  plight  our  holy  vows  to  each  other, 
right  then  an  unseen  lamp  in  the  recess  of  my  heart  would 
be  furnaced,  that  would  lighten  and  brighten  my  pathway 
with  fervent  love  unto  that  perfect  day.  His  God  would 
be  my  God,  his  good  my  guidance." 

"May  Montfort,  your  kind  of  love  is  a  dark,  swift  whirl- 
wind. It  means  love's  dreams  full-fullent,  or  it  will  reveal 
life's  reality  to  be  a  dismal  fiasco." 

"Well,  Carrie,  so  may  it  be.  If  I  might  live  and  die  in 
a  myrtle  grove  alone  with  my  own  sweet  love  with  me,  it  is 
all  I  ask,  God  knows." 

"Oh,  May,  child  of  romance,  that  is  the  head,  the  acme 
of  love.  Heaven  grant  you  its  realization.  Diana's  for- 
esters guard  you  through  the  deep,  tangled  wildwood.  Oh, 
May,  I  took  you  to  be  tenderhearted,  full  of  sufferance. 
What!  kill?  Your  eye  had  a  murderous  flash,  your  voice 
gutteral  like  a  bear's  when  robbed  of  her  cubs — you  made 
me  shiver." 

"My  dear  daughter,  do  go  and  fetch  me  a  glass  of  water. 
Carrie,  come  to  me.  You  don't  understand  her.  She  is 
as  gentle  as  a  June  wind  when  not  ruffled ;  but  when  enraged 
her  blood  turns  to  iron — sh!  Thank  you,  daughter.  Now 
our  meeting  stands  adjourned." 

"Mother,  shall  I  draw  the  curtains  close?" 

"There,  dear,  see  the  taper  is  lighted.  To  preserve 
your  health  be  early  abed.  Take  with  you,  to  be  happy 
is  to  be  good.    Now  for  restful  curtained  slumbers." 

"St.  Cecelia  guard  you,  dear  Mrs.  Montfort,  and  bring 
you  a  celestial  rose. 


i? 


328  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"May,  we  are  now  in  our  own  room.  I  feel  confused 
when  I  attempt  to  unravel  your  declaration  of  a  tragedy 
possible.  Oh,  if  by  accident  we  should  escape  punishment 
here,  one  could  not  pass  meeting  the  Avenging  Angel 
when  boated  over  the  river  by  Charon.  The  supernal 
region  only  to  be  seen  across  the  great  gulf — gramercy, 
how  awful!    How  is  it  May?" 

"Holy  Writ  has  it  emblazoned  throughout  the  sacred 
pages,  that  woman  was  made  for  man,  that  she  is  bone  of 
his  bone,  flesh  of  his  flesh.  I  believe  it.  Therefore,  why 
not  strike  when  your  stronger  self  is  struck?" 

"Yes,  but  if  he  is  down  and  dead,  May,  that  ends  his 
life's  program." 

"Nay,  my  poor,  little  self,  standing  humbly  in  His 
mighty  presence,  I  should  know  that  He  knew  that  I  struck 
boldly  for  my  other  life;  and  I  would  beg,  through  the 
merits  of  the  Crucified  One,  to  let  me  rejoin  my  other  self 
that  we  might  chant  His  praises  together  in  that  land  be- 
yond the  shining  shore,  forever  and  a  day." 

"For  the  life  of  me,  I  dare  not  think  of  it;  so  monstrous 
a  trespass  I  fear  would  not  be  forgiven." 

"God  judges  not  as  man  does.  He  tries  the  reins  of  the 
heart,  its  intent,  its  purpose.  It  would  not  be  done  for  a 
trifling  offense,  nor  to  gratify  an  envious  rise  of  spleen; 
but  for  husband,  home,  and  country.  He  wills  it  that  one 
should  be  loin-girded,  ready  for  the  hand  to  confederate 
with  the  brain.  I  should  not  fear  that  He  would  break  the 
bruised  reed." 

"Please  again,  May,  excuse  me.  I  am  so  dazed  and 
stupefied  that  my  senses  will  not  respond." 

"Well,  just  this:  I  would  play  the  part  of  Jael." 

"Ha!  you  say  so?  How  could  you?  Oh,  you  tawny- 
colored  Serval!  When  caressed,  how  dulcet  your  purring; 
when  made  mad,  you  bring  into  use  your  fangs  and  bring 
into  battle  your  fur-covered  briar-hooks." 

"I  see  nothing  so  surprisingly  horrible  in  the  lunge  of  a 


In  Mrs.  Montforts  Room  329 

blade,  Carrie,  or  the  drive  of  a  nail,  or  why  one  should  try 
to  escape  from  the  trespass  here  or  hereafter." 

"May,  I  fear  you  have  lost  some  of  your  mind,  you  have 
been  alone,  an  old  maid  so  long.  The  decalogue  says, 
'Thou  shalt  not  kill.' 

"I  agree  with  you,  Carrie.  The  law  is  plain,  and  the 
punishment  is  and  should  be  sure.  Remember,  Carrie, 
Holy  Writ  also  says,  'Wives,  obey  your  husbands.'  It  says, 
'Man  and  wife  in  flesh  and  in  law  are  one.'  Now  the  law, 
'Thou  shalt  not,'  is  a  general  law;  the  law  of  obedience. 
Devotion  is  a  special  law;  and  self-preservation  is  a  law 
direct.  I  understand  it  to  mean  to  conduct  yourself  accord- 
ing to  the  conditions  that  confront  you." 

"May,  your  reasoning  has  made  me  quite  nervous.  I 
wish  I  had  some  lavender  tea.  May,  I  dislike  sleeping 
alone,  let's  bed  together." 

"No,  I  prefer  to  stretch  out,  tuck  up  the  sheet,  and  not 
disturb  nor  be  disturbed." 

"You  dear  little  humming-bird,  you  will  not  be  limed. 
Don't  wait  to  become  old  pot  metal.  Stand  up  here  now. 
You  measure  five  feet  five  inches  in  your  stockings,  your 
ankle  is  exactly  five  and  one-half  inches.  I  am  five  feet 
seven  to  the  dot.  May,  you  are  a  veritable  manhater.  I 
fear  to  even  mention  the  name  of  the  son  of  Dionysius  and 
Aphrodite  in  your  esthetic  company.  You  should  continu- 
ally cherish  the  oleander.  I  tell  you,  dear,  there  is  great 
fun  in  making  a  man  stand  around — let  him  back  up  and 
then  back  him  off.     Teasing  is  so  pleasing  to  me." 

"Is  it  so?  You  talk  Chaldean  language  to  me,  I  am  so 
untutored." 

"Without  cant,  it  is  a  fact,  a  man's  heart  has  a  hundred 
strings,  ours  but  one;  here  lies  our  vantage  ground.  Men 
do  not  always  weigh  well  the  end;  temporal  politics  makes 
them  waver.  She  need  be  but  advertent,  then  we  come  in. 
The  cupbearer  becomes  director.     His  diseased  opinion 


330  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

we  can  physic,  looking  well  to  our  own  exaltation.  Sup- 
pose he  does  rule  the  camp,  sail  his  pinnace  over  many  seas, 
and  is  the  feasting  personage  at  the  tournament;  yet  for  all 
that  the  woman's  one  string  is  love.  And  when  she  deigns 
to  open  the  castle  gates  and  he  enters,  crowned  emperor, 
ah!  then  he  tastes  the  nectar  of  the  gods,  there  is  he  bliss- 
fully impounded." 

"What,   Carrie,   is  the   old   market-wife's   reckoning — 
'That  the  moon  sees  many  brooks,  but  the  brook  sees  but 


one  moon 


?o?> 


Fudge!  No  firefly  for  me.  I  must  and  will  be  a  con- 
stellation. I  say,  a  plague  on  the  men;  they  are  predica- 
tory;  they  are  prenately  facultied  with  much  abstruse 
advisement;  they  are  pretenders  inveterate.  If  they  be  the 
lofty  tree,  we  are  the  rosettes,  the  winsome  cloth  of  gold." 

"Carrie,  you  make  me  smile  at  your  mouthings.  As 
for  me,  I  have  a  measureless  admiration  for  the  high  spirit 
of  endeavor,  and  the  judicious  intellectuality  of  the  male's 
mind.  I  can  but  believe  that  the  trend  of  masculine 
thought  is  an  adorable,  a  hearty  loyalty  towards  woman- 
kind. Why  not?  What  can  appeal  to  the  very  essence  of 
his  nature  as  she  who  is  panoplied  in  the  graces  of  fem- 
ininity? Each  was  made  by  divine  ordinance  to  have  a 
beautiful  interdependency,  embodying  as  a  whole  strength 
and  beauty,  adventure  and  devotion.  Carrie,  what  say 
you?" 

"To  all  which  I  say  amen,  Selah!  But,  May,  too  much 
eulogy  will  destroy,  not  mend.  Men  by  nature  are  inclined 
to  fly  too  high;  we  must  keep  their  wings  clipped,  or  they 
will  soar  out  of  our  sight." 

"I  thought,  Carrie,  love's  eyes  could  see  through  space 
into  eternity." 

"Yes,  I  can  but  think  'tis  best  for  us  to  hold  our  own; 
we  must  at  times  affect  a  mannerism  foreign  to  our  feel- 
ings.    Pooping  does  them  good." 

"Can  it  be  so,  Carrie?     I  think  to  hold  we  must  not 


In  Mrs.  Montforfs  Room  331 

often  descant  on  his  infirmities.  It  is  inherent,  peculiar 
to  our  being,  to  oppose  when  pricked.  Men  love  the  con- 
genial, the  trustful." 

"That  is  all  nice  to  me,  but  it  is  purely  speculation.  The 
present  has  its  demands,  needs;  these  are  facts.  The  future 
rewards  are  what  our  sentiments  suppose  them  to  be.  In  a 
word,  those  awards  are  unknown  quotients.  May,  love  is 
a  delicate  plant,  and  to  be  retained  it  must  be  watered  by 
praise  from  the  lips,  and  also  from  the  yellow  colored  foun- 
tain of  abundance.  Reverses,  want,  would  make  love  a 
bondage  of  which  I  must  respectfully  decline;  for,  May,  I 
tell  you  penury  defaces  the  divine  gift  of  beauty." 

"I  know,  Carrie,  riches  and  power  should  be  enjoyable 
by  the  human  family  as  a  whole,  to  be  prized  for  personal 
independence  and  opportunities  for  benevolence ;  but  if  the 
harried  heart  is  to  suffer  thereby,  if  our  eyes  must  be 
closed  to  want,  and  to  little  kind  deeds  silently  done,  then 
I  must  say  the  wealth  bubbling  from  an  honest,  kind  heart, 
with  but  little  of  earthly  goods  to  go  with  it,  would  be  to  me 
the  dearer,  the  happier  existence.  I  can  but  think  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  done  a  kind  deed  was  a  thought  that 
had  its  birth  in  and  by  the  inspiration  of  an  angel.  Good 
Lord,  grant  no  wealth  to  me,  unless  allowed  to  bountifully 
help  the  distressed,  for  it  would  be  to  me  as  frightful  as  the 
little  red  man  of  the  Tuilleries  was  to  Catherine  de  Medici." 

"May,  let's  get  away  from  this  subject  upon  which  we 
can  never  agree.  Now,  riches  are  all  right,  and  men  are 
all  right,  when  you  can  manage  both.  To  me  to  be  com- 
pelled, because  born  a  woman,  to  walk  and  drink  to  the 
line,  fills  me  with  righteous  indignation.  To  the  moon  with 
such!  I  can  but  fairly  shake  with  glee  when  you  can  make 
a  grown  man  mumble  the  peg — yes,  get  down  and  lip  and 
mouth  it.  To  you,  poor  soul,  husband  and  home  and  such 
heavenly  awarded  dignities  and  blessings  you  would,  to 
uphold  them,  sacrifice  your  own  individuality.    Not  so  with 


332  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

me.  I  tell  you,  if  I  had  to  sleep  in  East  Cheap  it  would 
be  done  severely  and,  by  the  Holy  Rood,  he  should  not  dine 
in  Piccadilly." 

"Carrie,  is  it  I,  or  are  you  at  fault  in  sub-audition?  I 
am  not  borne  away  from  the  true  center  of  right.  I  don't 
for  a  moment  say  the  man  should  be  considered  extra- 
ordinary and  the  woman  common.  Oh,  no!  for  I  can't 
conceive  how  a  fairminded  man  could  be  induced  to  so 
far  forget  his  love  and  his  duty  to  his  mate  and  his  family." 

"Ah!  May,  to  be  afraid  to  step  one  pace  too  far,  or 
saintly  discretion  is  offended;  to  have  to  ask  leave  of 
absence  for  a  month,  or  you  stand  corrected  in  the  eyes  of 
husband  and  your  neighbors,  bah!  Such  trammels  make 
me  rash  and  spiteful  to  all  my  coadjutors.  From  all  such, 
good  Lord  deliver  us!  Every  woman  has  a  sure  card  up 
her  sleeve  if  she  only  knew  how  to  play  it." 

"But,  dear  Carrie,  we  will  not  chide  one  another  for 
having  view  fields  so  dissimilar.  Everything  has  its  orbit, 
the  seasons  their  usefulness,  the  eagle  the  crag,  the  wren  the 
doorface.  Say,  Carrie,  don't  you  feel  sleepy?  I  do,  and 
I  am  going  to  undress." 

"No,  not  even  half  a  wink.  Let's  talk  a  little  longer. 
Oh,  May,  your  pale,  golden  hair  tumbles  like  an  auric 
cascade  over  your  milk-white  bosom  and  reaches  down  to 
your  dimpled  knees.  I  forgot  to  tell  you,  May,  that  I  am 
going  home  tomorrow.  I  long  to  have  my  pretty  chick- 
chicks  around  me  and  Frank  to  kiss  my  cheek  again.  May, 
if  I  were  to  tell  you  what  is  uppermost  in  my  mind,  it 
would  give  you  the  holy  horrors;  and  I  have  almost  the 
vertigo." 

"You  must  be  tickled  at  the  prospect  of  getting  back 
home.     I  shall  miss  you — stay  longer,  Carrie." 

"I  just  can't.  My  mouth  is  just  watering  for  the  goody 
fruit  in  the  midst  of  the  garden  at  home." 

"I  have  always  greatly  desired  to  look  upon  North  Caro- 
lina's Mediterranean  and  sail  upon  its  limpid  waters.    But 


In  Mrs.  Montfort's  Room  333 

wanting  is  not  possessing.  Carrie,  I  have  dreamed  of  that 
wonderful  river,  of  a  moonlight  float  with  hair  down,  with 
only  a  fillet — joyously." 

"Just  bunch  up  your  clothes  and  come  along.  If  you 
will  consent,  I  will  write  Cousin  Tom  and  he  will  accom- 
pany us." 

"Dear  old  friend,  I  thank  you,  but  I  can't  leave  my 
mother." 

"Hush,  May  Montfort.  When  the  right  man  comes  along 
and  bites  you  on  your  left  ear,  oh,  then  you  will  go,  and  go 
willingly." 

"The  same  old  story  is  it,  daily  new  and  never  old! 
Oh,  well,  not  yet.     Bah!" 

"May,  for  goodness'  sake,  don't  refuse  Tom's  pleas,  if 
he  should  be  fool  enough  to  address  you  again.  I  confess 
that  if  my  husband  were  to  fall  asleep  I  would  be  goods  on 
the  market  in  three  months  by  the  calendar.  Yes,  after  my 
grief  week,  after  attiring  myself  in  widow's  weeds,  after 
my  appetite  came  to  me,  I  should  commence  looking 
around,  comparing  faces." 

"Oh,  Carrie,  don't  talk  so.  The  enwrapped  dead  should 
be  spoken  of  more  reverently.  I  am  going  to  read  my 
prayer-book  and  retire." 

"Why,  May,  what  would  be  the  sense  of  continuing  in 
tears  and  lamentations,  and  he  enshrouded  in  oak  and 
shadowed  by  a  marble  shaft?  And,  say  what  you  will, 
dear,  a  woman  so  fair,  a  form  so  divine,  a  step  so  elastic 
as  yours,  sighs  and  feels  lonesome  without  a  circle  and  a 
companion;  and,  May,  you  are  growing  old." 

"What,  Carrie!  had  you  rather  raise  cockles  than 
barley?" 

"Anything,  May,  rather  than  be  at  all  times  all  smiles, 
all  goodness.  Oh,  I  hate  measly-minded  women.  Are 
you  asleep?  For  Santa  Maria's  sake,  let's  talk  just  a  few 
more  little  minutes.  I  have  something  great  to  acquaint 
you  withal." 


334  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Well,  go  ahead  and  let's  to  bed.  I  am  one  of  your 
measly-minded  sisters." 

"Now,  by  My  Lady,  no  wild-goose  ways,  no  carrier- 
pigeon  pathetics  for  me.  I  live  in  today.  Yes,  'tis  past 
midnight.  It  is  the  very  hour  for  owlish  hobgoblins. 
Queen  Mab  is  out  and  about,  and  I  do  hope  one  of  the  bold- 
est of  her  witches  will  ride  you  this  night — clamorously 
attack  the  garlanded  citadel,  and  when — " 

"Oh,  Carrie,  do  hush;  I  am  so  very  sleepy." 

"Stop  that  chattering!     You  hear,  girls?     Go  to  sleep." 

"Good-night,  Carrie." 

"Sweet  dreams,  May." 


8 


LIII 


TETE-A-TETE 

"I'll  give  you  Aquitania,  and  all  that  is  his, 
And  you  give  him  for  me, 
One  loving  kiss." 

— Love's  Labor  Lost. 

May  Montfort  was  standing  at  the  front  steps,  in  a  white 
grenadine  dress,  a  moss  rosebud  in  her  hair.  The  bright- 
ness of  her  tresses  gave  a  sunny  halo  to  all  her  features. 
There  she  stood  in  all  the  ravishing  beauty  of  well-rounded 
womanhood. 

"Oh,  Tom,  isn't  she  beautiful?  I  do  believe  May  is 
handsomer  now  than  I  ever  saw  her  before." 

"Cousin,  she  is,  and  enslavingly  so  to  me ;  but  if  my  eyes 
do  not  mislead  me,  there  is  a  plain  gold  ring  on  her 
finger." 

"What,  Tom!  a  ring?     Yonder  is  Colonel  Colmey." 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Montfort.  The  day  and  time  both 
deal  kindly  with  you." 

"Come  in,  Major  Boiling;  come  in,  Carrie.  Glad  to  see 
you." 

"Miss  Montfort,  I  am  very  much  pleased  to  see  that 
Colonel  Colmey  is  able  to  sit  up  on  the  upper  portico.  I 
fail  to  see  very  much  change  in  him,  only  his  hair  and  beard 
are  gray.  Dr.  Zollicoffer  tells  me  he  would  have  been 
certainly  killed,  but  that  the  Colonel  was  superstitious  and 
wore  a  charm  over  his  heart,  and  although  the  ball  went 
straight,  it  was  deflected  by  the  heavy  locket  suspended 
from  his  neck,  and  passed  through  his  side." 

335 


336  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Oh,  May,  do  tell  us  all  about  it.  May,  you  do  know. 
See,  Tom,  how  she  reddens.  Tell  us  now,  like  a  good 
girl." 

"Carrie,  you  fill  me  with  amazement;  the  idea  of  Colonel 
Colmey  wearing  charms!     Yes,  mother,  I  am  coming." 

May  arose  and  went  to  her  mother. 

"Tom,  did  you  hear  any  one  call  May?  The  deuce!  I 
had  rather  be  a  ferret  with  a  litter  of  kittens  than  a  crochety 
old  maid." 

"Carrie,  I  was  thinking  of  Burton  and  Colmey  and  was 
paying  no  attention  to  calls.  I  suppose  her  mother  called 
her  or  she  would  not  have  answered." 

"Bah!  Fiddle-dee-dee!  May  can  fool  you,  but  not  me. 
So  easily  she  left  us  to  evade  being  questioned;  just  as 
quick  as  a  didapper,  to  get  out  of  sight  and  shot." 

"I  will  come  over  after  supper.     Good-bye." 

"Now,  for  thought,  will  she  sidetrack  me?  When  I  pin 
her  she  jumps  the  fence  and  says,  'I  am  coming,  mother; 
excuse  me,  Carrie.'  She  is  from  egg  to  apple  profound, 
but  I  can  untangle  as  fast  as  she  can  tie.  I  have  not  for- 
gotten my  father's  saying,  'Gentle  manners  go  with  gentle 
blood,  but  if  necessities  arise  they  must  be  met  and  over- 
come.' Before  grace's  cup  is  drunk  between  us,  I  will  set 
afloat—" 

Major  Boiling  was  back  at  the  Manor  soon  after  dinner, 
and  proposed  to  have  a  heart  talk  with  May.  Lover-like, 
he  feared  to  delay;  he  dreaded  to  boldly  advance. 

"Oh,  cousin,  how  kind  of  you  to  come  early.  I  doubted 
you  would  hear  the  hornblower  wind  the  work  hour." 

"I  fear  me  it  would  be  better  for  me  if  I  had  never  had 
the  privilege  of  visiting  this  dear  old  manor.  I  have 
fondly  hoped  Miss  May  would  manifest  more  interest  in 
my  visits;  I  cannot  complain  of  coolness,  but  she  seems  to 
be  environed  with  quicksands.  I  cannot  trust  myself  to 
implead  my  suit." 

"Tom,  I  am  thinking  of  returning  home.     The  desire  is 


• 


Tete-a-Tete  337 

growing  upon  me  to  go  back,  yes,  where  the  sweetbrier 
meadows  scent  the  morning  air,  to  hear  again  the  lowing  of 
the  many  cattle  at  eventide,  as  they  come  slowly,  leisurely 
homeward." 

Boiling  heard  May's  voice  out  on  the  portico  and  went  to 
look  for  her. 

"There  goes  Tom,  as  fine  a  fellow  as  ever  pulled  a  boot 
on.  To  be  sure,  he  is  but  little  imaginative,  out-and-out 
practical;  and  why  so?  He  seems  with  May  to  be  demag- 
netized. With  his  shape,  his  leg,  and  his  fortune  he 
should  easily  win  a  marital  mate.  Pshaw!  for  shame!  That 
moody  Colmey,  I  fear,  holds  key  to  the  situation.  Wherein 
is  Colmey's  sorcery?    To  me  he  is  a  bete  noir." 

Carrie  went  to  look  for  Tom  and  May. 

"Ha!  May,  as  usual,  bending  over  primary  nature. 
Where  is  Tom?" 

"Major  Boiling?     I  thought  he  was  with  you." 

"You  thought.  Alas!  poor  fellow.  It  matters  but  little 
to  you  where  he  is — in  Halifax  or  Kamshatka.  By  my 
troth,  when  I  compare  Tom  Boiling  with  that  half -lunatic, 
Jean  Colmey,  I  almost  go  mad." 

"Carrie,  what  ails  you?  Neither  by  actions  or  words 
are  you  justified  in  making  such  intimations.  My  dear, 
don't  wrestle  with  fate.  Ever  since  he  incautiously  spoke 
of  ducking  stools  and  bronks  you  have  had  your  rapier  out 
for  him.  Dear,  there  are  lonely  hearts  to  cherish  as  we 
journey  through  life." 

"I'd  journey  him  if  I  could.  You  forget,  May,  that  you 
have  a  chance  to  marry  a  man  without  father  or  mother, 
no  children,  alone  and  wealthy;  one  who  experiences  a 
depression,  a  sadness  quite  unknown  to  Colonel  Colmey, 
who  has  children  and  the  memory  of  a  dead  wife  to  cherish; 
that  is  to  say,  if  he  ever  gives  the  poor  soul  a  thought." 

"Now,  Carrie  dear,  be  at  home.  I  need  to  go  and  help 
Mrs.  Tabb  to  get  the  desserts  ready.    I'll  be  back  soon." 

22 


338  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 


ur 


"There  she  goes,  a  puzzle  to  me.  She  has  an  adapta- 
bility, a  sureness  to  do  the  right  thing  at  the  most  season- 
able moment.  Oh,  my!  she's  a  rose  leaf  that  seems  to  me 
will  never  be  rumpled.  Holy  wedlock  would  give  a  heart 
balm  to  her,  and  she  longs  for  contentment  impassionately." 

Carrie  looked  up  and  Major  Boiling  was  approaching 
her.  He  asked  most  ardently,  "Cousin  Carrie,  can  you  tell 
me  of  Miss  May?" 

"May,  Tom  has  been  looking  for  you  everywhere;  and 
here  you  sit,  potting  flowers.  Oh,  May,  listen  to  me! 
Marry  the  man  who  adores  you." 

"I'd  rather  not.  I  prefer  to  grow  geraniums  and  raise 
roses,  Carrie,  or,  as  you  said,  visit  Florida  and  study  the 
mounds." 

"Silly  woman  that  you  are.  Can  the  flowers  rise  up  and 
call  you  blessed?  Can  they  hand  you  a  cup  of  water  when 
fever  wrings  your  brow?  Now,  by  my  troth,  you  have  for 
yourself  a  poor-pother  trade.  Preferable  by  far,  my  dear 
sweet  friend,  is  the  cuddlings  of  a  husband  and  the  mother- 
ing of  boys." 

"Good  for  you,  Carrie,  good !  Now  here's  at  you.  If  I 
have  let  slip  the  many  innocent  joys  of  wifehood,  failed  to 
meet  the  desires  of  my  friends  and  to  comply  with  the 
demands  of  kin  and  country,  as  you  have  so  kindly  reck- 
oned, I  can  in  return,  not  in  defense,  say  that  duty  and 
honor  have  been  my  guides.  Remaining  as  I  am,  I  have 
avoided  the  anxieties  of  maternity,  evaded  tasting  possibly 
the  gall-drop  of  filial  ingratitude,  and  maybe  escaped  the 
keenest  cut  of  all  that  could  come  into  a  woman's  life — 
slighted  love.  If  I  have  been  nobody's  darling,  I  surely 
have  been  no  one's  pest." 

"Oh,  dear  May,  I  humbly  beg  pardon  if — " 

"There,  there.  Come,  Carrie,  the  dining-room  bell  calls 
us  to  come." 

"Be  seated,  ladies.  Mrs.  Montfort  cannot  be  with  us. 
Miss  May,  grace,  please." 


Tete-a-Tete  339 

After  dinner,  upstairs  alone,  Carrie  soliloquized :  "May 
has  an  apparent  frankness  that  disarms  me,  and  the  acute- 
ness  of  her  apprehension  disconcerts  me.  She  did  not  used 
to  be  this  way.  Never  mind!  I  will  wind  her  reel  yet." 
Carrie  paced  the  floor.  "Plague  take  her  time,  she  verily 
believes  she  is  fooling  me.  I  take  it  as  an  insult  to  my 
native  cunning.  I  have  it!  I  can't  fail;  a  strapado  for  me 
if  I  do.  Gypsy  or  no  gypsy,  it  shan't  be  Colmey.  Bah! 
I  hear  Colonel  Colmey's  ravings;  his  fever  has  returned. 
I  can't  help  my  woman's  heart  going  out  in  pity  towards 
him.  I  stand  upon  queachy  ground,  but  all  the  same  I 
expect  to  land  Cousin  Tom  safely.  He  is  a  'first  chop,' 
and  if  he  would  only  lie  low  and  flatter  and — " 


LIV 

BOLLING  AND  BURTON 

"Farewell!  God  only  knoivs  when  we  slwll  meet  again." 

On  the  porch  the  next  morning  sat  Carrie,  Major  Boiling, 
and  Squire  Burton.  Mrs.  Montfort  was  in  the  library,  feel- 
ing happy.  Burton's  pair  of  bright  bays  to  a  well-trimmed 
gig  were  under  the  tulip  tree  in  charge  of  his  driver.  Boil- 
ing's gray  mare,  a  beautiful  dapple,  stood  saddled  in  the 
shade  near  the  gate,  held  by  his  faithful  valet.  Under  the 
great  oak  was  a  high-crested  black  horse,  champing  his  bit. 

"Eh!  is  Colonel  Colmey  able  to  take  to  horse?  I  see 
his  black  charger  and  his  servant  holding  him." 

"Really,  Major,  I  don't  know;  I  fear  he  is  not." 

"Squire  Burton,  I  have  heard  queer  stories  about  that 
horse,  how  he  fought  so  furiously  when  his  master  was 
surrounded  and  how  courageously  he  brought  the  Colonel 
through  the  British  lines.  He  is  exactly  like  the  horse  I 
raced  against  about  twenty-five  years  ago;  he  has  only  one 
white  spot  on  him,  and  that  is  between  his  eyes." 

"Oh,  Tom,  no  doubt  the  poor  beast  did  do  well  that 
dusky  evening,  but  I  should  judge  that  it  was  a  season  of 
neck  or  nothing,  and  the  firing  guns  excited  the  horse  and 
made  him  vicious.  As  to  the  men,  of  course,  they  just  had 
to  fight,  and  it  was  simply  a  do-or-die  game.  It  shows, 
also,  for  a  fact  that  Colonel  Colmey  was  overmatched,  yes, 
and  driven  from  the  field." 

"Pardon  me,  I  beg  you,  Mrs.  Thompson,  but  I  feel  com- 
pelled to  stand  up  and  say  Colonel  Colmey  made  a  brave 
fight.  I,  for  one,  feel  we  are  due  him  and  his  game  battal- 
ion our  everlasting  thanks." 

"Bravo!  Burton,  give  me  your  hand!     I  am  with  you, 

34  0 


Boiling  and  Burton  341 

man,  heart  and  soul.  Colmey  fought  the  fight,  and  if  he  was 
struck  down  it  was  an  affair-tre-dielle,  and  he  the  unit. 
Captain  Leighton  and  Captain  De  Courcy  of  His  Majesty's 
Heavy  Dragoons  bear  Colmey's  marks  on  them  to  this  very 
hour.  By  St.  George,  I  wish  I  could  have  been  right  by 
him.     He  is  a  brave,  good  fellow;  yes,  he  is." 

May's  heart  bounded  with  an  unknown  pleasure — how 
ecstasied  she  felt!  but  she  kept  her  face  unmoved.  Doctor 
Zollicoffer  rode  up  on  his  nutmeg  roan  and  cheerily  called 
out,  "How  do  you  all  do?  Is  Colonel  Colmey  ready?" 
Colonel  Colmey  could  be  heard  coming  downstairs  slowly. 
He  walked  into  the  library  where  Mrs.  Montfort  was  sitting 
and  said,  "I  have  come  to  say  good-bye."  May  stole  a 
hurried  glance  at  Squire  Burton  and  Major  Boiling. 

"Won't  you  stay  at  least  a  week  longer?" 

"I  thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  Montfort.  I  have  been  on  your 
charity  long  enough,  and  I  have  come  to  thank  you  and 
Miss  May  for  my  life." 

"Oh,  don't  say  that!  The  doctors  did  so  much  more  for 
you  than  we  did." 

"Yes,  ma'am,  they  gave  directions,  came  in  and  went 
out;  but  you  and — " 

Mrs.  Montfort  felt  overpowered.  "Good-bye,"  and  as 
she  extended  her  small,  shapely  hand,  Colmey  bowed  low 
and  kissed  it  reverently. 

"Come,  Colonel  Colmey."  Mrs.  Montfort  sat  tearless 
as  if  she  were  transfixed,  and  could  not  finish  the  sentence. 
When  Colmey  came  out  on  the  porch  a  boisterous  neigh, 
loud  and  proud,  came  as  a  greeting  from  Merlin.  "Colonel, 
your  horse  knows  you." 

"Yes,  sir,  we  have  been  close  neighbors  for  several 
years."  Merlin  commenced  a  vigorous  pawing  and  switch- 
ing of  his  tail. 

The  men  arose,  the  ladies  stood.  Mrs.  Montfort,  Carrie, 
and  May  could  but  unconsciously  measure  the  men  as  they 
stood  facing  each  other — all  about  the  same  height,  Squire 


342  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Burton  the  heaviest.  He  had  a  general  appearance  of 
honesty  and  a  good  liver.  His  manners  were  pleasant, 
cultured.  Major  Boiling,  as  erect  as  an  Indian,  clear, 
dark  eyes  and  handsome  face.  Colonel  Colmey's  poise 
was  perfect,  his  voice  gentle  and  firm,  his  demeanor  sub- 
dued, and  complexion  pale.  Squire  Burton  won  your  con- 
fidence, Major  Boiling  your  admiration,  Colonel  Colmey 
aroused  your  sympathy  and  sealed  your  devotion.  He 
shook  hands  with  the  gentlemen,  and  when  he  approached 
Carrie  her  brow  was  clouded  and  in  her  eye  lurked  a  sour 
dislike.  Colmey  reddened  in  the  temples,  bowed  coldly 
his  adieu,  and  raising  his  hat  in  salute  to  all,  he  walked 
lamely  over  the  graveled  walk  to  the  gate.  Squire  Burton 
accompanied  him,  Major  Boiling  would  assist  him  down 
the  steps.  The  ladies  remained  standing.  May  choked. 
The  lameness  of  Colmey  aroused  much  sympathy  in  Bur- 
ton, and  at  the  gate  he  said :  "Colonel,  let  me  beg  to  drive 
you  home;  you  are  too  lame,  too  weak,  to  mount  your 
horse.     Here  Harley,  bring  my  horses." 

Dr.  Zollicoffer  called  out,  "Say,  Colmey,  just  get  in  the 
gig  and  let  your  servant  come  with  your  charger." 

"No,  thank  you,  my  carriage  is  in  sight." 

Squire  Burton's  bright  bays  made  a  very  attractive  team, 
and  his  brand-new  gig  had  a  looking-glass  finish.  The 
driver  looked  over  at  Remo,  who  was  in  charge  of  the  black 
horse,  and  coughed,  hemmed,  and  took  on  a  lofty  look. 
Remo  knew  what  he  meant.  Negroes  take  a  lively  interest 
in  any  and  all  display  made  by  their  masters.  Burton's 
driver  claimed  by  look  and  act  that  he  was  outswelling 
Remo.  The  two  grove  men  enjoyed  the  fling  between  the 
Burton  and  Colmey  houses.  Remo  became  savagely  jeal- 
ous, he  forgot  even  the  existence  of  Uncle  Addison.  "That 
dern  nigger  thinks  he  has  pinned  the  basket  on  Marse  Jean, 
but—" 

Like  the  realization  of  an  ardent  longing  came  whirling 
up  the  avenue  the  champing  chestnuts  of  Colmey  Place, 
with  Uncle  Addison  reins  in  hand  and  face  all  smiles. 


Boiling  and  Burton  343 

The  horses  heads  were  tossed  in  the  air,  tails  spread,  and 
every  hair  on  their  satin  bodies  in  the  right  place.  The 
light,  stylish  carriage,  the  soft,  round,  hand-made  harness, 
the  shining  silver  trimmings,  seemed  to  have  been  the 
thought,  the  design  of  an  artist.  An  outrider  accompanied 
the  carriage,  to  open  gates,  examine  bridges,  try  the  depth 
of  streams,  and  to  go  on  ahead  and  announce  the  coming 
of  the  family  equipage.  On  formal  occasions  there  were 
two  or  more. 

"I'm  nearly  dead  with  joy,  Uncle  Ad,  so  glad  you  has 
come!  Let  me  lift  this  chain  of  Dragon's  off  of  Dolphin's 
part  of  the  hold-back.  Yer  silver  harness  does  look  so 
fine!"  Remo  spoke  loud  enough  for  Burton's  driver  to 
hear  him. 

"Yes,  Remo,  and  these  colts  are  mighty  pert  steppers 
today.  There's  Dragon,  he  'magines  he  is  smartest;  but 
not  so,  both  about  even." 

Remo  cleared  up  his  throat  and,  chuckling,  said  to  Uncle 
Addison,  "Uncle  Ad,  that  Burton  nigger  thought  he  had  us 
down  shure.     Now  look  how  lonesome  he  'pears." 

They  laughed  outright  and  watched  with  delight  the 
driver's  shifting  of  his  seat  and  his  side  looks  for  the  com- 
ing of  his  master. 

"Now,  gentlemen,  let  me  thank  you  for  your  kindly  help, 
and  let  me  put  your  generosity  to  the  test  by  suggesting 
that  both  of  you  come  home  with  me.  Squire  Burton, 
come,  tell  your  driver  to  follow." 

Boiling  declined,  Burton  accepted.  Both  assisted  Col- 
mey to  get  into  his  vehicle.  As  the  chestnuts  took  their 
bits  and  the  carriage  whirled  away,  Remo  walked  up  to 
Harley  and  tauntingly  remarked,  "Thar  now!" 

Reaching  the  Place,  Squire  Burton  pleaded  business, 
that  he  would  come  soon,  and  returned  to  the  Montforts, 
fixed  in  mind  at  an  early  date  to  once  more  press  his  resolve 
to  win  May  Montfort,  and  the  firmness  of  his  resolution 
made  him  forget  her  past  refusals. 


LV 


HOME  AGAIN 

'Against  that  time,  if  ever  that  time  come, 
When  I  shall  see  thee  frown  on  my  defects, 
Against  that  time  when  thou  shalt  strangely  pass 
And  scarcely  greet  me, 
Do  I  ensconce  me  here." 


iir 


'Thank  God!  I  am  under  the  old  Colmey  rooftree  once 
again.  I  am  no  trouble  to  my  kind  neighbors  now,  and 
my  wounds  are  healing  as  well  as  one  could  expect.  My 
strength  slowly  tells  me  I  may  hope  to  be  well  once  more, 
but  there  is  wanting  here  a  voice,  a  form." 

Colmey,  attended  by  Remo,  paced  up  and  down  the  back 
heavy-vined  veranda.  He  felt  chilled  when  he  thought  of 
his  parents,  dead,  his  uncles  and  aunts  dead,  and  his  de- 
voted wife  resting  near  the  surging,  the  never-at-rest  waters, 
near  the  sea,  dead. 

His  uncle  had  left  him  this  place;  it  was  his,  yes,  his 
home.  But  no,  never  can  a  house  be  a  home  of  joy  and 
peace  to  him,  and  he  alone  the  only  occupant  proper,  and 
he  a  wounded,  sad-hearted  soldier.  "A  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury ago  I  fled  from  this  place  as  the  gray  dawn  was  break- 
ing; thinking,  yes  believing,  that  the  Virginia  witch  was 
telling  the  truth,  that  May  was  engaged  to  Boiling,  but 
now — now!  Her  bright  smile  haunts  me  still.  Tom  Boil- 
ing, Burton,  I  am  at  a  disadvantage — my  wounds,  my 
precious  children — but  for  all  that  sit  your  saddles  steady." 

Squire  Burton  returned  and  consoled  the  porch-sitters 
by  saying,  "The  Colonel  seemed  to  enjoy  the  drive  and 
was  happy  to  get  back  to  his  uncle's  old  home";  but  that 

344 


Home  Again  345 

he  feared  Colonel  Colmey  had  seen  his  best  days,  feared  he 
was  an  invalid  for  life. 

"Squire  Burton,  did  you  discover  any  mental  unbalance 
in  the  Colonel's  conversation?" 

"No,  only  he  is  the  saddest  looking  man  I  ever  saw." 

"I  have  feared  the  sword-slash,  the  cleaving  of  his  head, 
might  injure  his  mental  equilibrium;  bring  about  an 
aberration,  you  know.  Colonel  Colmey  will  never  be  him- 
self again.  That  furious  cut  down  to  his  brain  has  placed 
him  on  the  list  of  incurables." 

"Well,  Mrs.  Thompson,  if  it  has,  it  has  placed  him  also 
among  the  immortals.  I  am  no  soldier,  but  I  love  a  brave 
man,  and  Henry  Burton  will  never  fail  to  do  honor  to  him 
that  falls  beneath  his  country's  flag,  his  face  to  the  foe." 

"No  one,  Squire  Burton,  wishes  to  detract  from  Colonel 
Colmey  any  merit  due  him;  but  when  a  man  is  skull-cleft 
one  can  but  suppose  the  brain  is  badly  jarred,  that  the  gray 
matter  is  materially  disordered." 

"As  for  me,  I  believe  the  Colonel  will  recover,  and  will 
lead  his  hardy  followers  into  the  thick  of  the  fight  again. 
All  honor  to  the  brave,  say  I!" 

"By  my  hopes  of  salvation,  Tom  Boiling,  you  fill  me 
with  soul-kinship." 

Carrie,  under  her  breath,  exclaimed,  "By  Saint  Cecelia, 
how  fool-happy  Cousin  Tom  can  make  himself." 

May  Montfort  felt  a  cold  chill  pass  through  her  very 
body  and  entity.  Could  it  be  possible  that  Jean  Colmey, 
her  Jean,  was  liable  to  "be  unbalanced,"  an  invalid  for 
life,  incurable!  "Come  what  will,  my  love  belongs  to 
him." 

The  quick  eye  of  Carrie  Culpepper  Thompson  detected 
the  droop  in  the  spirits  of  May  Montfort.  She  saw  a  pain, 
a  deep,  repressed  pain,  steal  over  her  classic  brow,  and 
fearing  for  her  friend,  for  she  loved  May  almost  madly, 
she  hastily  went  to  her  and  asked  that  they  go  for  a  glass 
of  fresh  water. 


346  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Mechanically  May  arose  and  went  with  her,  and,  when 
passing  through  the  library,  May  gave  way  and  swooned 
into  Carrie's  arms.  Making  no  outcry,  laying  her  friend 
down  on  the  carpeted  floor,  she  at  once  closed  the  doors 
toward  the  hall,  ran  for  water,  and  dashed  it  into  May's 
face.  She  was  soon  herself  again,  and  looked  annoyed, 
abashed,  to  realize  that  Carrie  suspected  the  secret  cause 
of  her  swooning.  No  one  else  saw  her,  no  one  else  ever 
heard  of  it.  Carrie  was  now  convinced  that  May  loved 
Colonel  Colmey.  She  was  glad  and  yet  sorry  she  was  to 
leave  at  noon.  Mrs.  Montfort  had  entertained  the  two 
gentlemen,  had  invited  them  to  remain  to  dinner,  but  they 
had  respectfully  declined.  May  and  Carrie  coming  back, 
Squire  Burton  at  once  formally  bade  her  good-bye,  and 
Major  Boiling  told  Carrie  he  would  ride  over  at  one-thirty 
and  go  some  of  the  way  with  her.  Carrie  was  sorry  to  go, 
and  glad  to  go.  A  dead  look  had  come  into  Carrie's  face 
that  told  apter  than  her  tongue  that  her  hopes  were  blighted. 
She  knew  she  was  needed  at  home.  Her  love  for  May 
made  her  linger,  but  now  she  felt  that  May  would  prefer  to 
be  alone,  because  she  felt  certain  that  May  fully  realized 
that  she  knew  her  life's  secret.  Dinner  was  over,  the  gig 
was  at  the  door.     Major  Boiling  was  in  waiting. 

Carrie  passionately  clung  to  May.  She  sobbed  aloud. 
Kissing  Mrs.  Montfort  good-bye,  she  put  her  arm  around 
May's  waist  and  walked  to  the  gate.  There  was  a  long, 
affectionate  embrace  between  the  life-long  friends.  Carrie 
looked  through  her  tears  at  her  cousin,  she  bowed  to  all, 
and  stepping  lightly  into  the  gig  by  her  son,  her  handker- 
chief pressed  to  her  eyes,  she  said  softly  but  sadly,  "My 
son,  drive  on.  May  Montfort,  my  life  friend,  good-bye." 
Carrie  took  a  hasty,  a  loving  last  look  at  Montfort  Manor. 
"Adieu,  la  Voiture."  Carrie  Culpepper  Thompson  was 
gone. 

Having  ridden  several  miles  with  Carrie,  and  she  seemed 
so  cast  down,  Boiling  thought  best  to  leave  her.     "Well,  I 


Home  Again  347 

must  part  with  you,  cousin;  and  when  I  win  May,  and  win 
her  I  will,  we'll  come  down  to  see  you." 

"Yes— when!" 

"What  do  you  mean,  Carrie?  What  is  in  the  way? 
She  is  a  woman,  therefore  to  be  wooed." 

"Yes,  but  they  are  not  always  won,  Tom." 

"But,  Carrie,  I  feel  like  a  banished  man  when  out  of  her 
presence,  my  sorrow  continues  until  I  am  near  her  again." 

"Dear  Cousin  Tom,  I  fear  your  importunity  will  fall 
on  deaf  ears." 

"What!  who  is  in  the  way  so  formidably?  Your  visage 
speaks  defeat  to  my  entreaty." 

Carrie  at  once  rallied;  she  must  protect  May  at  all 
hazards.  "Ah!  Squire  Burton  is  wealthy,  he  is  an  old 
suitor,  has  never  married,  like  unto  yourself,  and  May's 
mother  leans  toward  the  Squire  in  no  uncertain  manner." 

"Cousin  Carrie,  I  give  you  double  thanks  for  your  timely 
information;  but  in  my  heart  I  feared  Colmey  most,  al- 
though scarred  and  wounded,  and  with  children.  Now, 
dear  cousin,  good-bye,  and  may  it  be  God's  will  that  when 
we  meet  again  we  will  be  both  happier,  less  woe-begone." 

Mrs.  Montfort  mourned  over  Carrie's  going,  but  May 
went  quietly  about  her  house  duties,  feeling  like  an  eye 
had  been  removed  that  she  had  learned  to  fear.  She  up- 
braided herself  for  swooning,  that  she  found  Carrie  had 
dived  down  into  her  soul  and  fished  up  her  secret  for  her 
inspection,  and  such  knowledge  by  another  would  surely 
bring  about  her  own  mortification.  It  is  human  nature  to 
avoid  any  one  we  think  knows  what  we  wish  unknown. 
May  loved  Carrie  very  dearly,  but  she  loved  Colmey  pas- 
sionately. She  was  truly  thankful  no  one  else  on  earth 
ever  suspected  she  could  have  an  attachment  for  any  one. 
Now  a  sweet  sunbeam  had  come  into  her  former  darkness. 
She  was  married  to  her  resolve  to  keep  unstained  her 
heart's  first  pure  love. 

Henry  Burton  was  used  to  winning  his  way  in  life  with- 


348  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

out  strain  of  mind  or  measure.  Manlike,  the  opposition 
that  fronted  him  now  in  his  suit  to  win  as  wife  May  Mont- 
fort  only  stiffened  his  effort  to  overcome  her  intention  of 
remaining  outside  the  boundary  of  the  marriage  circle. 
Her  decision  of  character  charmed  him,  her  realism  of  the 
several  conditions  of  life,  and,  above  all,  the  holding  of 
herself  aloof  from  his  approaches,  increased,  invigorated 
his  determination  to  possess  her. 

The  next  afternoon  he  drove  to  the  mansion,  and  after 
some  time  of  everyday  talk,  he  boldly  and  squarely  asked 
May  to  become  his  wife;  that  as  an  ardent  admirer  of  hers 
for  years  he  pleadingly  suggested  the  privilege  of  being 
allowed  to  speak  to  her  mother. 

There  was  a  dreamy,  semi-satisfied  look  in  May  Mont- 
fort's  eyes  that  rather  irritated  than  soothed  his  impatience. 
Being  a  woman  and  unmarried,  he  could  not  understand 
why  he  could  not  win  her.  The  propounding  to  her  of  his 
heart's  devotion  was  repugnant.  Having  but  one  heart, 
and  that  heart  pulsating  for  another,  she  felt  to  sit  and 
listen  to  a  proposal  of  marriage  was  for  her  to  perpetrate 
upon  her  better  self  a  sacrilege,  upon  her  absent  loved  one 
a  silent  deception,  deep  and  condemnatory. 

She  quietly  arose  and  gently,  firmly  announced  her  irre- 
vocable decision:  "I  appreciate  the  honor  you  would  confer 
upon  me;  but  I  cannot  marry  you,  Mr.  Burton." 


LVI 


BELFIELD  CAMP 

"He  that  is  truly  dedicated  to  war 
Hath  no  self-love." 

Conny  Donnell  of  the  Cavaliers  was  singing  heartily, 
oblivious  of  his  surroundings: 

"Of  all  the  birds  on  bush  or  tree, 
Commend  me  to  the  owl, 
Since  he  may  best  example  be 
To  those  that  cup  the  trowl. 
For  when  the  sun  hath  left  the  west, 
He  chooses  the  tree  that  he  loves  the  best 
And  he  whoops  out  his  song  and  he  laughs  at — " 

"Here,  Sergeant,  can't  you  leave  off  your  song  of  the 
Mousing  Owl  long  enough  to  direct  me  to  the  tent  of  the 
commanding  officer  of  this  cavalry  troop?" 

"So,  so,  your  honor.  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  asking 
friend  or  stranger  what  shall  please  me  to  sing.  Our  com- 
manding officer's  flag  is  flying  over  there,  sir — crimson  and 
with  a  white  hornets'  nest  in  the  center." 

"You  seem  to  forget  the  space  between  a  commissioned 
and  a  noncommissioned  officer." 

"No,  Lieutenant,  I  do  not.  I  am  willing  to  do  my  full 
duty  toward  one  in  higher  command,  and  no  more." 

"Words  are  but  breath  without  deeds  to  follow.  You 
affect  a  mannerism  not  in  keeping  with  your  stripes." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Lieutenant,  if  I  have  stepped  over 
the  limit.  I  answered  your  question  politely,  and  I  pre- 
sume to  know  the  difference  between  a  brook  trout  and  a 
trout-bird." 

349 


350  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"I  have  neither  patience  nor  time  to  spare  to  entertain 
your  half -framed  courtesies.  I  have  an  important  message 
to  deliver,  and  that  you  might  recognize  the  propriety  of 
offering  to  show  me  the  way,  as  I  am  unacquainted  with 
these  parts." 

"I  will  be  very  glad,  Lieutenant,  to  do  so,"  and  Donnell 
at  once  stepped  forward  to  lead  the  way. 

"No,  I  decline  your  services.  You  are  too  late  in  prof- 
fering a  pilotage.     Ah,  ahem!" 

"I  beg  to  say,  Lieutenant,  that  your  rebuff  does  not  grieve 
me  in  the  least.  Your  preference  in  this  instance  is  surely 
my  pleasure." 

Lieutenant  Berkley  saluted,  walked  away  and  muttered, 
"The  damned  mousing  owl." 

"Hello,  Donnell!  What  popinjay  is  that?  He  seems 
to  be  poorly  plumed." 

"Plumed  or  unplumed,  he  is  a  stuffy  fellow,  and  reminds 
me  of  a  darned  brush  turkey  a-gobbling.  He  is  all  fuss 
and  feathers." 

"Where  is  he  from  and  who  is  he,  Don?" 

"Oh,  he  is  from  Colonel  Hastings'  regiment,  a  fine  body 
of  gentlemen,  and  he  has  a  message  to  Major  Iredell.  He 
asked  me  roughly  if  we  had  no  colonel.  I  told  him  our 
Lieutenant-Colonel  was  dangerously  wounded  at  the  sharp 
fight  at  Halifax  with  the  Tarleton  Legion,  and  he  had  to  be 
left  behind." 

"Donnell,  old  boy,  rah  for  Colmey!  Oh,  ye  gods!  if  he 
could  only  come  again  and  ride  in  front  of  the  Battalion  on 
his  great  black  horse,  ready  and  willing  to  lead  his  Caro- 
lina troopers  to  victory!" 

"Say,  Badger,  go  slow,  or  I  shall  fly  my  base  in  a  tangent 
and  whoop  aloud  for  our  gallant  Colonel.  In  fact,  I  fear 
much  if  the  Cavaliers  ain't  getting  as  silly  over  our 
wounded  headman  as  those  Guards,  the  fellows  that  eat 
salmon  and  never  sprats." 

"Well,  the  truth  is  truth,  and  'tis  this:  with  the  exception 


Bel  field  Camp  351 

of  Captain  Capehart,  who  is  ever  blithe  and  gay,  every 
lieutenant,  sergeant  and  man  of  the  Colmey  Guards  have 
a  proud  and  reserved  look  in  keeping  with  the  mein  ever 
seen  in  their  old  Captain.  You  know,  Donnell,  their  motto 
is,  'Dangers  and  Death  to  the  Devil.'  " 

"Yes,  Badger,  I  have  noticed  it.  I  have  heard  that  their 
old  Captain  saw  service  in  Scotland  under  Prince  Charlie 
and  came  near  being  tried  and  hanged." 

"Don,  that  may  have  saddened  our  Colonel  for  life,  for 
he  has  something  heavy  at  heart." 

"True  as  the  ebb  and  the  flow  of  the  tides  are  governed 
by  the  moon,  so  has  the  Colonel  imprinted  himself  upon 
his  old  company  in  word  and  act.  But,  Badger,  by  Jove! 
ain't  they  hefty  chargers,  right  up  to  the  cannon's  mouth? 

"  'Chargers!  yes.    Sword  and  shield, 

In  bloody  field,  doth  win  immortal  fame.' ' 

"Badger,  this  quiet,  narrow  river  makes  me  sigh  for 
home,  for  dear  old  Newby." 

"Yes,  yes,  Donnell,  where  the  bright  blue  Neuse  rolls 
and  the  dark,  deep  Trent  flows." 

"Badger,  did  you  notice  Captain  Hawks  and  Captain 
Devane  yesterday  when  they  met?  Damn  me,  if  both 
didn't  grow  an  inch  in  height  as  soon  as  they  heard  one 
another's  voice.     Devane  is  dashy." 

"That's  all  true,  Don;  but  our  Captain  holds  his  own 
without  a  quibble.  I  tell  you  these  Light  Horse  fellows 
are  jealous-green  of  us  Cavaliers." 

"By  All  Saints'  Day,  Badger,  let  me  tell  you,  those  Cape 
Fear  folks  are  dandies.  So  far  they  are  right  up  to  our 
choke-strap,  they  are." 

"Yes,  yes,  Don,  both  captains  are  blue  bloods  and  game 
cocks,  but  old  Newby  is  in  the  lead.     Bah!" 

Lieutenant  Berkeley  came  to  inform  Major  Iredell  that 
his  regiment  would  be  on  the  grounds  in  twenty-four  hours 
to  relieve  the  Battalion,  and  that  the  Battalion  was  to  re- 


352  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

main  in  camp  for  further  orders.  Colonel  Hastings  came 
at  the  appointed  time  and  Major  Iredell  paid  his  compli- 
ments in  person,  accompanied  by  Captains  Capeheart  and 
Hawks.  On  their  return  to  their  quarters  the  Major  ex- 
pressed himself  freely. 

"Capehart,  I  like  Colonel  Hastings'  appearance  and  am 
favorably  impressed  with  his  officers  and  regiment.  By 
St.  George!  they  are  a  fine  body  of  troopers. 

"Major,  your  language  confirms  my  observation  and 
judgment;  and  now  let's  hear  from  Hawks." 

"I  have  but  little  to  say,  and  must  acknowledge  that 
down  in  me  I  have  a  lurking  desire  to  whack  at  those  fuss- 
and-feathers  fellows  with  their  jingling  spurs." 

"Captain  Hawks,  I  must  express  my  surprise  at  the 
acerbity  of  temper  you  displayed  in  your  reply  to  Lieu- 
tenant Berkeley.  I  must  disapprove  of  your  hasty  conduct. 
He  asked  about  our  flag  and  quite  curiously  inquired  about 
the  white  hornets'  nest  of  silk,  but  I  did  not  think  it  war- 
ranted in  you  to  make  the  remark  you  did,  'that  North 
Carolina  did  not  ask  others  what  colors  she  should  fly.' 

"Well,  Major,  I  ask  your  pardon  if  I  committed  an 
offense.  You  are  my  superior  officer,  and  I  bow  to  your 
rulings." 

"Captain,  you  must  be  aware  that  Colonel  Colmy  would 
be  grieved  if  he  heard  of  your  butt-in  answer  to  Lieutenant 
Berkeley,  and  he  my  guest." 

"May  be  so,  but  if  I  have  read  aright  the  face  of  our 
sorely  hurt  commander,  there  is  not  a  man  in  this  Battalion 
as  quick  as  he  is  to  assert  and  maintain  the  prestige  and 
the  privileges  of  Carolina." 

"Major,  under  your  favtor,  please  grant  me,  here  is  to 
our  beloved  leader,  Jean  Colmey.  God  bless  him!  None 
braver  ever  drew  saber." 

"Good,  Capehart,  good !    Amen!    Amen!" 


LVII 

THE  STONY  CREEK  CHARGE 
"Once  more  to  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once  more!" 

As  Major  Boiling  rode  back  into  Halifax  he  avoided 
going  by  Colmey  Place.  Carrie's  sad  tone  of  voice,  her 
good-bye  wet  with  tears,  embittered  his  every  thought.  "I 
am  going  over  tomorrow  and  have  it  out  with  her.  I  don't 
want  to  live  a  lifetime  out  like  old  Mr.  Jesse  Baker,  wife- 
less, childless,  and  friendless.  Nobody  at  home  but  the 
old  housekeeper,  tab  cat  and  torn,  and  the  old  watchdog. 
There  is  Miss  Tylera  Alston  and  Miss  Alf reda  Branch,  both 
superb  women,  best  of  families;  why  not  one  of  them  and 
settle  down?  Of  the  two  evils,  a  family  responsibility  or 
to  be  an  old  bachelor,  I  will  choose  the  lesser.  I  am  well 
off,  besides  the  old  homestead.  Squire  Burton  has  his 
father  yet,  is  chairman  of  the  county,  commander  for  the 
collection  of  supplies,  he  can  wait  on  if  he  pleases  to,  but 
as  for  Thomas  Rolfe  Boiling  he  is  going  to  get  married." 

His  decision  put  him  in  a  more  genial  mood,  and  the 
world  looked  to  him  the  brighter.  Going  after  his  mail, 
he  was  handed  a  large  envelope  marked  "Official."  On 
opening  it,  he  found  his  commission  for  a  lieutenant- 
colonelcy.  Colonel  Peyton  had  resigned.  Enclosed  was 
an  order  for  him  to  report  to  his  regiment  in  three  days. 
The  postmaster  remarked  there  was  a  similar  commission 
in  his  office  for  Colonel  Colmey.  Boiling,  feeling  elated, 
in  the  best  of  humor,  proffered  to  bear  the  official  letter  to 
Colmey  Place.  Riding  up,  he  was  met  by  Colmey  at  the 
gate. 

23  353 


354  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Come  in.  I  am  so  glad  you  have  kindly  come  to  see  me. 
I  have  the  blues." 

"What  is  the  trouble,  Colonel?" 

"Why,  I  dreamed  last  night  that  my  Battalion  was  cut  to 
pieces." 

"Ah!  see,  what  do  dreams  amount  to?     Ah,  Colonel!" 

The  envelope  contained  a  commission  for  a  full  colo- 
nelcy, "for  gallantry." 

"Well,  now,  ain't  that  good  news?     Now  no  blues." 

"Well,  Colonel  Boiling,  shake  hands  and  congratulate." 

A  trooper  rode  up.  Colmey  went  out  at  once  and  invited 
him  in  to  rest  and  sup.  "Well,  Sergeant  Badger,  what  is 
the  news?" 

"Bad,  sir.  Our  company  was  surprised  by  the  British 
and  Lieutenant  Shepard  was  killed  and  I  wounded,  and  the 
balance  were  captured." 

"How  many?" 

"Five,  sir.  We  mistook  them  for  Virginians — it  was 
dusk." 

Colmey  asked  the  Sergeant  hoarsely,  "How  many  did 
you  kill?" 

Next  morning  after  breakfast  Colmey  asked,  "When  do 
you  start  for  your  regiment,  Colonel  Boiling?" 

"The  day  after  tomorrow,  sir." 

"Then  we  will  go  together." 

"I  fear,  Colonel  Colmey,  you  have  not  recovered  suf- 
ficiently." 

"Yes,  I  feel  that  I  must  get  back  to  my  Battalion  right 
away." 

On  going  to  Hicksford  Colonel  Boiling  told  Colonel 
Colmey  he  felt  in  perfectly  splendid  health,  that  he  had 
given  up  the  idea  of  trying  to  persuade  Miss  May  to  marry 
him,  as  she  would  not  consider  any  proposition  as  long  as 
her  mother  lived,  if  ever;  and  that  he  could  not  get  his 
consent  to  propose  to  any  one  else. 


The  Stony  Creek  Charge  355 

The  Battalion  went  wild  over  the  return  of  Colmey. 
They  yelled  and  shouted,  "Colmey!  Colmey!" 

"Well,  men,  I  am  so  glad  to  get  back  and  see  you  all 
again,  but  I  must  say  I  am  worried  over  the  casualties  of  a 
few  days  ago." 

The  next  day  the  men  commenced  whispering,  "Some- 
thing is  up,  boys,  the  Colonel  looks  fretted.  He  asked 
Sergeant  Dan  Sutherland  if  the  Guards  had  their  sabers 
sharp  and  strapped."  Lieutenant  Owen  Green,  of  the 
Virginia  regiment,  was  ordered  to  report  to  Colonel  Colmey 
for  orders.  He  at  once  went  to  the  Battalion  headquarters. 
"Lieutenant  Green,  do  you  live  near  here?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Are  you  familiar  with  the  country  between  here  and 
Stony  Creek?" 

"Yes,  sir,  every  foot  of  it." 

"These  are  your  orders." 

The  Lieutenant  saluted  and  went  to  his  tent  to  read  what 
his  duties  were.     In  an  hour  he  was  between  the  lines. 

"Iredell,  how  did  the  mischief  occur?  Any  one  to 
blame?" 

"No,  sir,  I  think  not,  Colonel.  Our  men  mistook  the 
British  for  Virginians.  It  was  dark,  and  the  Cavaliers 
were  expecting  to  be  relieved  by  the  Virginia  regiment. 
As  soon  as  it  was  known,  Captain  Hawks  led  the  reserves 
in  a  charge,  drove  the  enemy  away,  and  reestablished  our 
lines.  I  sent  Manly  with  the  Dragoons  to  reenforce 
Hawks." 

"Well,  it  is  an  ugly  affair,  and  we  must  make  the  British 
taste  our  swords  before  leaving  here.  Here  is  my  plan. 
I  shall  take  with  me  the  Guards  to  use  their  sabers,  and  the 
Cavaliers  to  use  their  pistols,  for  they  are  the  best  armed 
company  with  hostlers  in  the  Battalion.  They  are  anxious 
to  wipe  out  their  discomfiture  and  reckon  their  scores  with 
Colonel  Tarleton." 


356  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Who  is  going  along  besides  those  mentioned?" 

"Well,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Boiling  is  going,  Lieutenant 
Green  will  be  our  pilot.  We  will  go  up  and  cross  Stony 
Creek  toward  Dinwiddie,  and  get  in  their  rear.  Colonel 
Hastings  promises  prompt  assistance  if  needed.  Iredell, 
old  fellow,  come  to  me  when  you  hear  our  guns." 

"Colonel,  I  will,  or  die  trying." 

The  night  following  was  rainy  and  dark.  The  Guards 
and  the  Cavaliers  were  ordered  to  fall  in.  Colonel  Colmey 
rode  along  the  line  and  said  positively,  "Now,  there  must 
be  absolute  silence.  By  twos,  forward  march!"  Lieuten- 
ant Green  in  front,  Colmey  and  Boiling  next,  and  then  the 
squadron.  After  a  tedious,  silently  slow  march  they  came 
in  sight  of  a  distant  camp-fire.  "Halt!"  Captain  Capehart 
ordered;  a  figh't  was  on  hand.  Just  at  the  first  streaks  of 
day  Lieutenant  Green  moved  to  a  near-by  ford,  crossed 
over,  the  squadron  following.  They  were  well  in  the  Brit- 
ish rear.  The  Guards  were  ordered  to  the  front.  The 
buglers  were  ordered  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness. 

"Lieutenant  Green,  let  me  thank  you,  you  have  done 
your  part  well;  and  now,  Colonel  Boiling,  with  God's  fair 
grace  and  a  due  regard  to  their  duty,  I  hope  our  Carolina 
cavalry  will  give  Colonel  Tarleton  a  rude  awakening  this 
cloudy,  unpropitious  morning.  All  ready!  Draw  sabers! 
Captain  Hawks,  I  depend  upon  you  to  use  your  hostlers 
handsomely.  Buglers,  sound  the  charge!"  Colonel  Col- 
mey cried  aloud,  "Follow  me,  my  merry  men!" 

With  a  yell  the  men  charged.  Captain  Percy,  the  officer 
of  the  day,  riding  around  his  lines,  heard  Colmey's  bugles. 
He  sounded  the  alarm  and  prepared  to  meet  the  coming 
danger.  Calling  up  the  night  watch,  he  put  himself  at 
their  head.  Captain  Percy,  mounted  upon  his  chestnut, 
started  for  the  coming  Americans.  Colmey  and  Percy  met. 
The  black  struck  the  chestnut  squarely  and  forced  him  on 
his  haunches.  Colmey,  rising  in  his  stirrups,  cleaved 
Percy's  head  almost  off  his  shoulders,  and  the  British  offi- 


The  Stony  Creek  Charge  357 

cer  fell  amidst  the  charging  squadrons.  The  camp  was 
captured,  a  battery  was  taken.  Unreleased  men  mounted 
their  captors'  horses. 

"Grimes,  get  off  with  the  guns  and  stores  quick!  Grimes, 
hurry,  for  God's  sake,  hurry  off!  Get  off  quick,  Grimes, 
with  the  guns  and  wagons  for  Hicksford — go!" 

"Capehart,  you  and  Hawks  deploy  right  and  left  and 
hold  hard;  hold  them  back,  they  are  coming!" 

The  bugles  of  the  British  reserves  were  summoning  to 
"boots  and  saddles,"  the  long  roll  was  beating,  night  had 
turned  to  day,  and  brave  Iredell  had  cut  his  way  through 
and  came  up,  hat  off,  at  a  gallop!  The  squadron  cheered 
madly!  Colmey  had  commenced  retreating,  the  captured 
men  and  stores  were  being  moved  hastily  for  Hicksford, 
and  the  enemy's  horse  were  bravely  advancing.  The  Brit- 
ish were  coming,  Lieutenant  Clinton  in  the  lead.  "Iredell, 
rope  the  road  lower  down  and  station  your  Queen  Anne 
men.  (The  Queen  Anne  men  were  armed  with  heavy  shot- 
guns.) Capehart,  Hawks,  come  with  me;  we  must  hold 
them  back!     Come!" 

In  a  moment's  time  the  charging  horsemen  were  fighting 
face  to  face,  beard  to  beard,  for  dear  life  and  victory. 
The  Legion  was  made  to  give  back.  Colmey  at  once  re- 
treated behind  the  roped  road.  The  officers  of  the  Legion 
rallied  their  men  quickly,  and  on  came  the  British.  In  a 
mad  dash,  striking  the  ropes,  men  and  horses  tumbled. 
"Give  it  to  'em,"  Major  Iredell  cried  out.  The  enemy  fell 
back  in  confusion  and  men  and  horses  were  left  dead  and 
wounded. 

"Iredell,  rope  again!"  A  mile  further  down  the  Ameri- 
cans securely  roped  the  road  and  bushes  were  cut  down  and 
placed  hastily.  The  British  came  up  more  cautiously;  they 
had  outflankers.  "Lieutenant  Bloodworth,  strike  the  right 
with  the  Lancers."  Colonel  Colmey  kept  up  a  running  fire 
with  the  Redcoats  right  at  his  heels.  Getting  in  sight  of  the 
Virginia  regiment,  he  turned  in  his  saddle  and  swept  the 


358  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

approach  of  the  British  with  his  powerful  field-glass.  He 
saw  an  interim.  The  advance  was  not  in  supportive  dis- 
tance. He  immediately  waved  a  salute  to  Colonel  Hastings 
and  called  out,  "Iredell,  Capehart,  come  with  me!  Hawks, 
deploy  right;  Devane,  oblique  to  left."  Whirling  Merlin 
to  the  front,  he  cried  aloud,  "Follow  me,  my  merry  men!" 
Colonel  Boiling  was  boot-to-boot  with  Colmey.  The  bugles 
sounded,  all  charged  headlong!  The  British  advance  was 
slashed  right  and  left  and  driven  back  on  supports. 

A  sharp  cry,  "Colonel  Colmey,  I  am  badly  hurt!"  made 
Colmey  hurry  to  the  side  of  his  friend.  The  bugles  sounded 
shrilly,  "Rally!  rally!"  The  British  reserves  coming  up, 
opened  a  hot  fire,  but  did  not  advance.  Colonel  Boiling 
was  tenderly  borne  to  camp  and  the  surgeon  called  to  attend 
him  immediately.  The  British  were  abashed  at  the  reck- 
lessness of  the  Americans. 

That  night  in  camp  Major  Iredell  asked  Captain  Hawks 
about  his  shooting  Lieutenant  Clinton  and  saving  the  Col- 
onel's life.    "Tell  me  about  it,  Hawks." 

"Well,  you  see,  the  Colmey  Guards,  I  really  believe, 
would  follow  the  Colonel  to  the  devil,  and  the  Colonel 
knows  it,  and  it  makes  him  take  big  risks.  When  you 
were  ordered  to  'rope  the  road,'  we  charged  to  give  you 
time  to  get  it  ready.  The  Colonel  met  the  British  full 
square — Captain  De  Courcy's  men.  I  followed  with  my 
company,  the  Cavaliers.  The  impetuosity  of  the  attack  put 
the  Redcoats  on  the  defensive,  and  they  struck  with  their 
swords  aimlessly,  while  our  men  sabered  them  right  and 
left.  Oh  man,  it  was  a  sight  for  Caesar  to  see!  It  was  our 
Black  Horse  going  up  against  the  English  Grays." 

Genuine  grief  was  manifested  by  the  entire  command 
over  the  fall  of  Colonel  Boiling.  "Doctor,  this  awful  pain 
in  my  back  kills  me,  I  am  a  dead  man.  Colonel  Colmey, 
come  closer.  Not  knowing  what  might  occur,  I  made  my 
will  two  years  ago.  Let  me  ask  you  to  bear  to  Miss  May 
my  last  message,  that  I  loved  her  unto  death.     Ask  her  to 


The  Stony  Creek  Charge  359 

receive  Gray  Gretchen  as  a  small  token  of  regard  from  an 
old  friend,  with  the  hope  that  she  will  sometimes  think  of 
him." 

Colmey  wept  over  Boiling.  His  high,  damp  forehead 
had  been  touched  by  the  cold  hand  of  death.  Colonel 
Hastings,  with  a  guard  of  honor,  took  his  body  to  his  old 
Chesterfield  home  and  laid  it  beside  his  fathers.  Thus 
passed  the  courtly,  the  dashing  Tom  Boiling,  and  hundreds 
came  to  see  his  last  remains  laid  to  rest.  The  minister  at 
his  burial  declared :  "Say  not  his  work  is  done.  No,  no, 
a  brave  deed  done  for  one's  country  never  dies.  It  will 
incite  heroism  in  the  bosoms  of  others,  when  told  how 
grandly  he  lived  and  how  bravely  he  died." 


LVIII 


HICKSFORD 

"/  saw  him  down  thrice,  and  up  again  fighting; 
From  helmet  to  spur,  all  blood  was  he." 

Hicksford  is  an  old  Indian  crossing,  once  Wyanoke; 
named  in  remembrance  of  a  bloody-minded  chieftain  who 
made  his  home  there  after  the  Wyoming  Massacre.  His 
tenting  ground  was  but  little  away  from  the  crossing,  and 
the  place  is  now  called  Fernside  Farm.  It  is  about  nine 
miles  from  the  dividing  line,  the  border  that  divides  the 
States  of  North  Carolina  and  Virginia. 

From  the  Roanoke  to  the  ford  the  country  is  rather  level 
and  fertile,  inhabited  by  a  people  of  sober  habits  and 
much  given  to  hospitality.  For  a  military  post,  Hicksford 
and  Stony  Creek  offer  about  the  best  camping  ground  that 
lies  between  Southampton  and  Mecklenburg. 

Colonel  Hastings  had  returned  from  Chesterfield  with  a 
sadness  lingering  in  his  heart  over  Colonel  Boiling's 
burial.  That  night  he  had  "Officers'  Call"  sounded.  The 
captains  and  a  few  lieutenants  responded.  "Well,  gentle- 
men, I  am  anxious  to  hear  if  there  is  any  news  abroad  and 
to  talk  with  you  over  the  situation." 

"Colonel." 

"Captain  Huntley." 

"Colonel,  a  party  came  in  from  near  Petersburg  and 
reports  the  death  of  Captain  Percy.  He  was  highly  es- 
teemed by  the  Legion.  The  party  also  said  that  the  British 
have  buried  fifteen  of  their  men  and  that  many  were  badly 
wounded." 

"Colonel." 
'Captain  Spottswood." 

360 


"/ 


Hicksford  361 

"In  talking  with  Captain  Hawks  about  the  fight,  he  told 
me  that  Colonel  Colmey  had  the  Guards  to  charge  with 
saber,  and  his  company,  the  Cavaliers,  were  ordered  to  use 
their  holsters;  that  in  their  onrush  they  saw  Captain  Percy 
coming  in  full  gallop  to  cheer  on  his  men.  Colonel  Col- 
mey at  once  dashed  ahead  to  meet  him.  Hawks  said:  'I 
shall  never  forget  that  meet.  Captain  Percy's  charger  came 
bolt  outright  against  Colonel  Colmey's  and  the  impact 
forced  the  chestnut  upon  his  haunches,  and  quickly  Colonel 
Colmey,  rising  in  his  stirrups,  struck  Percy  a  blow  that 
cleaved  his  beaver  to  his  ear.  His  English  blood  bespat- 
tered Colonel  Colmey's  face.  His  noble  animal  went 
wildly  riderless  amongst  the  charging  squadrons  that  rode 
madly  over  Percy's  helpless  body.  Oh,  what  a  day!  We 
had  it  all  as  we  pleased  for  a  short  while,  and  then  came 
the  reinforcements.  Lieutenant  Clinton,  with  some  of  the 
Legion,  hurried  forward  and  charged  us  handsomely.  In 
the  beard-to-beard  encounter,  to  save  my  Colonel  I  emptied 
my  holster  into  Clinton's  face,  thus  painting  his  front  ver- 
milion. His  good  gray  bore  him  back  to  camp,  and  I  hear 
he  has  since  died.  That  morning  of  bloodly  reprisal  was 
worth  a  century  of  hum-drum  existence.'  I  asked  Captain 
Hawks  if  his  command  lost  many  men.  He  answered: 
'Not  many.  Captain  Capehart,  Orderly  Speight,  Lieuten- 
ant Ashe,  and  a  half  dozen  men  were  wounded.'  He  laugh- 
ingly pointed  to  his  left  wrist  and  said  one  of  Captain  De 
Courcy's  sergeants  had  left  his  mark  on  him.  'You  see, 
Colonel  Colmey  swooped  down  on  them  with  maddening 
yells,  the  bugles  sounding  the  charge,  and  we  sabered  and 
shot  at  will.'  Hawks  quite  proudly  said  lastly,  'Believe 
me,  sir,  we  made  them  feel  the  sting  of  the  hornets,  and  I 
swear  by  St.  Paul  that,  man  to  man,  Colmey's  Six  Hundred, 
in  open  field  fight  with  Colonel  Tarleton's  Legion,  would  be 
awarded  the  Oaken  Garland.'  As  Hawks  rode  off  I  could 
but  think  his  coarse  praise  was  enough  to  give  one  the  sour 


362  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

brash.  By  Christ!  as  I  see  it,  they  have  only  saved  them- 
selves from  being  jeered." 

"Gentlemen,  I  hold  it  is  not  heresy  to  extol  one's  com- 
mand when  they  have  worthily  acted,  and,  Captain  Spotts- 
wood,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  Colonel  Colmey  and  his  men 
did  deadly  deed  to  the  enemy  in  that  early  morning  hand- 
to-hand  engagement." 

"Colonel." 

"Captain  Harrison." 

"Colonel,  I  can't  think  the  British  will  ever  dare  to 
pounce  down  on  us  as  they  did  on  those  'Kallina 
Kavaliers.'  " 

"I  do  hope,  Captain  Harrison,  that  you  are  a  born 
prophet  in  this  particular.  You  should  recollect  our  regi- 
ment has  ten  companies,  and  the  Battalion  only  six;  but 
they  have  proved  themselves  seasoned  soldiers." 

"Seasoned,  bah!  Beg  pardon,  Colonel,  but  seasoned  or 
not  seasoned,  the  Legion  bagged  the  entire  squad  on  picket; 
yes,  hoof  and  hair." 

"Well,  Harrison,  it  was  after  a  stiff  fight.  The  British, 
I  hear,  had  forty  men,  the  Battalion  only  ten.  Surprised, 
they  were,  but  the  squad  lost  one  killed  and  four  wounded, 
and  their  Lieutenant  Sheppard  died  sword  in  hand.  Ser- 
geant Badger,  although  badly  wounded,  got  away  and 
gave  timely  alarm.  It  was  nothing  to  their  discredit.  Cap- 
tain Hawks  drove  them  back  into  their  lines." 

"Yes,  Colonel,  they  did  so;  yes,  did  fairly  well;  but, 
Colonel,  who  in  all  Christendom  can  suppress  his  risibility 
over  the  misery  that  weighs  down  these  folks  as  is  shown 
as  soon  as  they  pass  over  the  Dividing  Line?" 

"Captain  Harrison,  you  should  remember,  we  are 
charged  with  an  undue  admiration,  almost  a  frenzied  ardor, 
for  the  Old  Dominion." 

"To  me,  Colonel  Hastings,  it  is  refreshing  to  know  that 
they  have  gotten  across  the  berme,  and  may  they  rest  hap- 
pily among  their  pine  woods  and  sleepy  hollows.     The 


Hicksford  363 

British  may  hope  to  pounce  down  on  us  unaware;  but,  by 
the  clock,  they  will  not  find  us  'mousing  owls'  but  unhooded 
falcons!" 

"Look  here,  Captain  Harrison,  as  sure  as  I  am  Robert 
Edmonds,  I  dislike  that  word  pounce.  My  mother  was 
from  old  Bertie,  of  Gilliam  stock,  and  I  am  yet  to  believe 
that  the  squad  of  Cavaliers  acted  badly.  I  engage  you  to 
portraiture  an  exploit  more  daring,  more  fiery,  than  was 
the  attack  on  the  British  camp  but  a  few  short  hours  ago. 
Give  me  an  instance,  sir." 

"Come,  gentlemen,  cease  these  baitings.  Captain  Ed- 
munds, I  concur  with  you  in  defending  an  enterprise  the 
results  of  which  have  raised  the  spirits  of  our  people  a 
tenfold.  Further,  when  the  Battalion's  Colonel  heard  of 
the  discomfiture,  although  he  was  suffering  from  unhealed 
wounds,  if  he  did  not  come  as  an  eagle  and  strike  with 
beak  and  talon  the  enemy  a  blow  so  sudden,  so  staggering, 
that  will  make  them  lament  many  a  day,  then  I  am  incapa- 
ble  of  estimating  a  hazardous   and   a   well-advised   ad- 


venture." 


"All  the  same,  Colonel,  we  received  none  of  the  fruits  of 
the  fight.  Lieutenant  Green  piloted  them  and  fought  well. 
I  claim  we  should  have  had  half  of  the  artillery.  My 
stars!  weren't  those  guns  beauties?  Half  should  have  been 
left  on  this  side  'of  the  line,'  or  Virginia  should  have  had 
them  to  understand  that  we  did  not  entreat,  but  we  de- 
manded our  share  of  the  spoils.  Not  even  a  horse  or  a 
Queen  Anne's  gun!  They  took  all,  and  further,  I  politely 
signified  my  wishes  to  one  of  their  officers,  and  none  other 
than  the  dashy  Captain  Devane,  who,  I  am  told,  has  the  ear 
of  his  Colonel.  I  meekly — Spottswood,  listen — you  should 
have  heard  my  timid  pleadings — suggested  to  him  how 
gracious  it  would  be  in  Colonel  Colmey  if  he  would  appor- 
tion to  our  regiment  at  least  half  of  the  guns.  Spottswood, 
my  beloved,  give  ear — you  should  have  seen  the  doughty 


364  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Captain  turn  so  purplish  in  his  face,  his  eyes  rolled  red, 
like  Mars  when  much  angered." 

"Oh,  Harrison,  how  could  you?  Say  no  more,  I  beg 
you!  I  fear  my  belt  will  break  from  sheer  agitation. 
Mercy,  good  Harrison,  mercy!" 

"Gentlemen,  it  is  bad  taste  to  make  disparaging  remarks 
about  those  who  have  shed  their  blood  bravely  on  our  soil, 
and  for  a  common  cause.  The  world  over  has  ever  held 
that  valor  is  the  chiefest  virtue,  and  most  dignifies  the 
haver." 

"Colonel,  I  must  beg  pardon  for  offering  further  argu- 
ments, but  right  is  right,  and  I  think  they  should  have 
divided  the  goods." 

"In  all  fairness,  Harrison,  tell  us  what  we  did?  Who 
captured  the  guns?    How  would  you  word  your  demand?" 

"Well,  sir,  we  went  to  the  brink  of  a  rank  fight  for  them. 
Lieutenant  Green  was  there,  and  our  Lieutenant-Colonel 
was  killed." 

"Colonel  Boiling  volunteered  to  go  to  be  with  Colmey. 
Colonel  Colmey  asked  respectfully  for  a  pilot,  and  I  sent 
Lieutenant  Green.  Harrison,  did  you  fire  a  gun?  Did 
our  regiment  advance  a  foot?  Did  I?  Another's  laurels 
are  not  to  be  worn  by  me.  Who  planned  the  attack?  Col- 
mey struck  them  hip  and  thigh,  was  the  spirit  that  moved 
one  and  all,  and  to  him  belongs  the  glory;  and  he  is  wel- 
come to  it." 

A  hearty  "That's  so!"  was  roundly  said  by  all  except 
Harrison  and  Spottswood. 

"Well,  Colonel,  with  your  permission,  I  register  my  ob- 
jection for  what  it  is  worth." 

"Come,  gentlemen,  let  us  applaud  every  notable  act,  and 
ourselves  embrace  every  opportunity  for  getting  applause 
for  worthy  deeds.  In  the  enemy's  camp  I  vouchsafe  that 
there  are  many  pretty  pieces  of  artillery.  Who's  to  the 
front?" 

"Captain  Chambliss,  sir.' 


»5 


Hicksford  365 

"Thank  you,  Barron."  The  Colonel  arose.  "I  will  ride 
the  lines  tomorrow.     Gentlemen,  good  night." 

The  officers  saluted  and  retired. 

Sitting  around  their  campfire  that  night,  Lieutenant  Mor- 
ton called  out  to  Lieutenant  Drewry:  "Say,  Drewry,  what 
did  you  think  of  the  heated  controversy  between  Edmunds 
and  Harrison?" 

"Well,  Harrison  is  hotheaded  and  controversial;  quite  a 
good  fellow — I  like  him.  Such  a  contingency  as  he  inti- 
mated is  not  likely  to  arise  over  the  artillery.  My  opinion 
is,  it  would  be  a  pitted  field  of  brotherly  gore,  for  in  the 
sharp  trial  of  strength  of  squadrons,  it  would  be  long  and 
hard  before  Colmey's  men  would  cry  quittance." 

"Drewry,  I  had  rather  not,  by  Jove,  go  with  the  gimp 
guns  to  where  the  hornets'  nest  hangeth  and  the  tar-kiln 
burnetii." 

"I  think  it  was  commendable  in  Colonel  Colmey  to  take 
the  same  company  with  him  that  had  been  trapped  or  sur- 
prised. I  tell  you,  Morton,  that  fight  has  proved  to  me 
that  the  Southern  horsemen  are  a  match  for  Tarleton's 
Legion." 

"Say,  there,  Preston,  those  Carolina  folks  wish  to  lay 
their  surprise  at  our  doors." 

"Well,  Berkeley,  after  all,  it  turned  out  gloriously. 
What  do  our  friends  charge  to  us?  The  gay  troopers  ride 
proudly,  but  of  their  many  horses,  'nary  a  gray  or  a  roan 
do  you  see." 

"Why,  while  Dr.  Claiborne  was  dressing  Sergeant  Bad- 
ger's wounded  shoulder,  the  surgeon  asked  how  it  hap- 
pened. Badger,  in  pain,  blurted  out,  'We  mistook  the 
British  for  the  damned  Brush  Turkeys.'  Dr.  Claiborne 
asked  him  who  he  called  the  Brush  Turkeys,  and  he  snap- 
pishly replied,  'the  Virginians.'  " 

"Well,  Berkley,  the  brave  fellow  was  in  pain  and  in  a 
bad  humor.     You  know  often  we  say  bad  things  of  others." 

"Yes,  but,  Preston,  he  said  that  our  regiment  was  called 


366  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

so  because  our  men  had  called  his  Battalion  Mousing  Owls, 
that  our  regiment  laughed  at  the  mishap  that  was  un- 
avoidable." 

"Say  what  you  will,  Berk,  I  am  struck  with  the  fact  that 
those  troopers  are  conscious  of  their  own  courage  and 
strength,  and  are  willing  to  grapple  with  Tarleton's  Legion. 
In  truth,  they  are  a  proud,  dashy  set." 

"Press,  I  tell  you,  it  was  all  an  accident,  a  momentary 
grace  granted  by  fortune.  I  feel  that  those  people  have 
put  poison  into  the  cup  of  our  corps.  I  am  glad  they  have 
recrossed  'the  mere.'  Those  people,  somehow,  get  on  my 
nerves.  They  are  but  grivets  and  they  know  it;  we  are  the 
grizzlies.     Dare  let  them  say  'brush  turkey'  to  me." 

"Berk,  don't  get  too  heavy,  for  conditions  may  arise  that 
would  necessitate  their  hasty  recall.  Lord  Cornwallis  may 
return  southward." 

"That  don't  relieve  the  situation  now  existing.  Harrison 
was  right.  We  suffer  outrage.  It  would  be  pleasant  pas- 
time to  me  to  brush  off  the  ears  of  that  'mousing  owl'  fellow 
called  Captain  Hawks." 

"Berk,  Hawks  looks  to  me  like  a  cavalier  per  se." 

"Damn  him!  When  he  rode  by  our  company  he  looked 
at  us  as  if  we  were  newly  enlisted  militia  and  he  great 
Hannibal." 

"Don't  get  your  gills  red.  Hawks's  ears  must  be  ting- 
ling, if  there  is  truth  in  the  old  saying." 

"Press,  as  for  those  people  over  the  way,  I  have — " 

"Oh,  Berkeley,  we  must  not  forget  that  we  sat  in  our 
saddles  and  saw  that  North  Carolina  cavalry  fight  the 
British  horse  to  a  standstill." 

"Well,  if  they  did,  they  were  encouraged  to  make  the 
effort  by  knowing  our  regiment  was  ready  to  be  launched 
upon  the  foe.    We  can — " 

"Here,  Berkeley,  old  boy,  fill  up  your  pipe,  and  may  a 
good  night's  rest  and  a  savory  breakfast  make  us  forget  our 
heated  censures." 


Hicksford  367 

The  waning  moon  was  hanging  low  and  night  had  put  a 
pinch  of  rawness  in  the  air.  One  of  the  sentinels  was 
singing  lowly: 

"God  bless  the  men 
That  ate  the  hen 
And  left  the  bones 
For  Brother  Jones — 

Sing  heigho,  sing  Sally." 

Lieutenant  Preston,  handsome  and  brave,  sat  musingly 
by  the  log  camp-fire  smoking.  Lieutenant  Berkeley,  short 
and  stocky,  sat  puffing  his  pipe,  watching  the  purple 
wreaths  of  smoke  gracefully  ascending.  Quietude  reigned. 
The  waters  of  the  Meherrin,  uncontrolled  by  man,  went  by, 
murmuring  musically,  on  through  the  somber  shadows, 
kissing  farewell  to  the  grassy  knolls,  for  the  mother  sea 
from  whence  they  came  was  calling,  calling  unto  them  to 
come  home,  come  and  commingle  again  with  the  surging 
waves  of  the  mighty,  awetoned,  mysterious  deep. 


LIX 


COLMEY'S  SIX  HUNDRED 

"Too  much  rest  is  rust, 
There's  ever  cheer  in  changing." 

The  death  of  the  brave  Boiling  drew  Colonels  Colmey 
and  Hastings  closer  together.  Hastings  admired  Colmey's 
adventurous  spirit,  his  tender  solicitude  for  his  friends; 
and  Colmey  acknowledged  to  himself  how  thankful  he  felt 
for  the  promptitude  of  Hastings  when  hard  pressed  by 
Colonel  Tarleton;  and  then  his  hearty  friendliness  on  all 
occasions  endeared  the  Virginian  to  the  North  Carolinian. 

Captain  Capehart  was  the  rightful  diplomat  of  the  Bat- 
talion. He  was  quick  to  notice,  slow  to  offend,  and  his 
unfailing  good  nature  and  ready  common  sense  made  him 
acceptable  to  all.  Colonel  Colmey  was  kept  in  dread  that 
there  might  possibly  arise  a  friction  between  himself  and 
Colonel  Hastings  on  account  of  the  actions  of  Captains 
Devane  and  Hawks.  These  two  officers  too  plainly  showed 
in  every  look  and  act  that  they  felt  that  the  North  Carolina 
cavalrymen  were  made  of  much  sterner  stuff  than  the  Vir- 
ginians. Captain  Capehart  was  directed  to  respectfully 
call  their  attention  to  their  displeasing  manners  and  un- 
seemly remarks.  "Capehart,  Hawks  and  Devane  go  too 
far.  They  must  bridle  their  tongues;  we  must  keep  intact 
our  community  of  interest."  Although  Colmey  was  kind 
and  amiable,  yet  every  officer  knew  that  he  could  be  severe 
and  unrelenting  if  either  of  them  passed  over  a  certain  limit 
set  by  himself.  Lieutenant  Humphrey,  a  favorite,  was 
arrested  and  put  in  the  guardhouse  for  ten  days  for  con- 

368 


Colmey's  Six  Hundred  369 

tinuing  to  pursue  the  enemy  after  the  bugle  sounded  "Rally 
to  colors,"  at  Leawood  near  the  Neuse. 

"Captain  Hawks,  have  you  seen  'a  Betty'*  abroad 
today?" 

"No,  Saunders,  I  have  not.  Maybe  they  are  having  'the 
turkeys'  busy  gathering  brush  for  nesting  time." 

"Sh!  Here  comes  the  Colonel  from  Major  Iredell's,  the 
Cade  case,  and  Deaver,  both  good  soldiers,  but  awful 
fussy." 

The  officers  severally  saluted. 

"By  Jove!  Saunders,  he  has  an  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten 
and  command.    He  has  the  bearing  of  a  soldier." 

"Captain  Hawks,  under  the  rose,  be  provident  as  I  may 
as  to  time  and  policy,  somehow  I  find  on  every  occasion  of 
interest  that  the  Colonel  is  more  powerful  than  myself;  in 
his  presence  I  feel  purposeless,  ready  to  glibly  assent  to  his 
every  suggestion  or  overture.  He  overtops  me  at  every 
turn  without  seeming  eifort." 

Captain  Hawks  made  no  mention  of  how  Colonel  Col- 
mey affected  him.  He  was  one  of  those  kind  of  men  that 
let  you  tell  your  heart  secrets,  while  he  guarded  carefully 
his  own  from  you.  He  had  a  facial  frankness  that  invited 
your  confidence,  he  drew  you  out  into  the  open,  but  he  re- 
mained enwrapped,  walled  within. 

As  soon  as  Colonel  Colmey  reached  his  tent  the  bugles 
sounded,  "To  horse!"  The  command  at  once  was  in  com- 
motion. 

"By  the  Holy  Cross!  Saunders,  that's  music  to  my  ear 
more  sweet  than  the  conch's  call  to  the  weary  ploughman 
at  noontime.  I  am  willing  to  go  anywhere  to  get  away 
from  this  mousquito-cursed  Meherrin." 

When  in  line,  Adjutant  Grimes  rode  along  and  informed 
the  captains  that  "We  are  off  to  Halifax  and  there  to  await 
orders." 


"A  military  term  of  contempt. 


i\J- 


370  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Say,  Paisley,  you  know  we  ride  by  twos.  I  want  to 
talk  to  you;  let's  feed  our  horses  at  least  one  time  in  Lord 
Cornwallis's  trough." 

"Nixon,  the  very  thing;  as  soon  as  we  get  to  Halifax  we 
will  go  for  it.  It  has  cut  into  the  stone,  'Cornwallis's 
Horse  Box.'  " 

A  great  shout  went  up,  "Boys,  we're  going  home!" 
Every  article  of  every  description  was  gotten  together, 
rather  offensively  so,  by  Adjutant  Grimes.  People  came 
to  see  the  four  beautiful  pieces  of  artillery,  and  their  cais- 
sons made  the  many  cheer  lustily.  Among  the  horses  cap- 
tured was  a  blood-red  sorrel  mare,  belonging  to  Colonel 
Tarleton.  The  Battalion  unanimously  voted  that  she  be 
presented  to  Colonel  Colmey,  and  that  they  name  her  Lady 
Tarleton.  Gray  Gretchen  created  a  great  stir.  "Here  she 
is,  folks!  He  was  on  her  back  fighting  when  he  was  killed. 
They  say  he  said  he  was  glad  to  die  for  Virginia  and  on 
Virginia  soil.    Whose  is  she  now?    Ain't  she  pretty?" 

When  May  Montfort  was  informed  of  Colonel  Boiling's 
death  and  that  Colmey  led  the  fight,  she  at  once  went  to 
her  room,  closed  the  door,  and  knelt  down  in  humble,  ferv- 
ent prayer  for  one's  soul  and  the  safety  of  the  other. 
Colonel  Colmey  received  instructions  to  remain  at  Halifax 
to  await  orders;  in  the  meantime  to  look  after  Tories  and 
half-breed  Indains  who  had  grown  active,  and  punish  them 
if  need  be.  On  his  arrival  at  Halifax,  Colmey  circui- 
tously  passed  out  of  sight  of  the  great  gathering  of  people. 
He  went  to  Colmey  Place,  sick  at  heart,  with  strength  much 
impaired.  He  paced  his  room.  Heavens!  it  came  near 
getting  me.  I  was  right  by  Boiling,  I  heard  the  mortal  hit. 
Hawks's  quick  shot  saved  me  from  Lieutenant  Clinton's 
rere-de-main.  I  feel  so  lonely,  so  cast  down.  Oh,  my 
God!  Could  my  mother  press  me  to  her  heart  again! 
Remo,  come  and  help  undress  me.  I  feel  as  if  I  shall 
faint." 

A  good  night's  sleep,  a  rub-down  by  Remo,  a  well-pre- 


Colmey's  Six  Hundred  371 

pared  breakfast,  and  a  walk  in  the  cool,  noiseless  woods 
greatly  revived  him.  When  Dr.  Zollicoffer  came  over  to 
look  for  him  he  was  well  toned  up. 

"Well,  Colonel,  I  hear  you've  been  at  it  again.  Damn 
me,  if  you  are  not  a  lucky  one.  I  hear  you  got  in  the 
British  rear  and  Tarleton  is  furiously  mad,  he  is.  Wan't 
it  such  a  pity  Tom  Boiling  went  under?  By  the  Holy 
Virgin,  he  was  such  a  fine  fellow!  I  bet  he  was  a  game 
cock.  Oh,  war  is  a  serious  pastime,  a  game  of  blood  and 
ball.  From  what  I  hear,  Colonel,  you  are  holding  hard  to 
the  front  with  your  Carolina  troopers." 

Major  Iredell  was  requested  to  convey  Colonel  Boiling's 
gift,  and  Colmey  asked  that  he  should  give  full  coloring 
to  Boiling's  brave  conduct  on  field  of  battle,  while  horse- 
back on  Gray  Gretchen. 

An  immense  crowd  was  at  Halifax  to  meet  Colmey's 
Battalion.  Everybody  was  anxious  to  see  the  nineteen 
Redcoats  brought  back  as  prisoners.  The  British  had 
treated  the  people  far  and  wide  with  violence. 

The  community  as  a  whole  inwardly  rejoiced  when  they 
heard  that  Cornwallis's  men  had  been  rudely  handled  by 
the  Halifax  men.  The  twelve  cavalry  horses  captured  and 
the  wagons,  the  teams  and  their  harness  were  closely  scru- 
tinized. They  were  in  unrestrained  delight  when  the  guns, 
the  stores  of  pistols,  the  powder  and  ball,  and  the  several 
hundred  English  army  blankets  were  exposed  to  their 
view.  Then  the  ambulance,  something,  to  them,  entirely 
new,  full  of  medical  supplies,  was  a  wonderment;  and  then 
the  field  spyglass  of  Captain  Percy  was  an  object  of,  not 
only  admiration,  but  surprise. 

"Say  there,  Daniels,  ain't  this  good  for  the  eyes  to  see?" 

"Yes,  Geddy,  they  look  good  to  me,  having  been  won 
from  the  British  by  North  Carolina  gallantry." 


LX 


UNCLE  MAC 

"Alas!  poor  Yorick, 
I  knew  him  well." 

— Hamlet 

Of  the  many  valuable  captures  made,  one  was  Natty 
McBrae.  He  and  his  belongings  were  each  distinctive.  In 
his  early  life  he  with  his  parents  were  inmates  of  a  shieling, 
and  later  in  his  early  manhood  he  was  a  moss  trooper. 
Fearing  capture  and  imprisonment,  he  enlisted  in  the 
Seventy-fourth  Argyle  Highlanders.  He  was  suspected  of 
being  at  a  Birdale  gathering,  but  no  proof  forthcoming, 
he  was  enrolled.  He  had  been  in  the  army  first  and  last 
about  forty-five  years.  He  started  to  go  out  with  the  Black 
Watch,  but  when  the  day  came  he  failed  to  put  in  his  ap- 
pearance. Army  life  had  become  a  fascination — a  home 
for  Uncle  Mac.  Here  his  lost  hopes,  his  early  disappoint- 
ments, were  buried. 

The  beautiful  red  sorrel  mare  was  at  once  recognized  by 
him.  He  vowed  she  was  of  Barbary  breed  and  a  favorite 
of  Colonel  Tarleton's.  He  proved  a  valuable  adjunct  to 
the  quartermaster's  department,  and  was  reliable  in  every 
particular.  He  was  a  smithy  and  a  good  one.  His  father 
was  a  Highlander,  his  mother  of  the  Campbell  clan.  He 
was  a  bachelor,  not  from  choice.  The  picture  of  the  woman 
he  loved  he  kept  reverently  preserved.  Parental  interfer- 
ence was  exercised  to  make  Celestine's  heart  go  seemingly 
by,  with  trembling  assent.  The  glen  and  glebe  of  the 
McLaren  joined  her  father's,  and  the  wealthier  suitor  won. 
They  parted — Celestine,  all  sobs  and  tears;  Natty,  broken- 

372 


Uncle  Mac  373 

hearted  and  silent.  In  his  cups  he  would  s^eak  of  her 
as  his  "sweet  Celestine  of  Lake  Tay."  Of  a  roving  disposi- 
tion, anywhere  was  his  home;  being  kindhearted  and  ac- 
commodating, everybody  was  his  friend.  He  was  not 
ardent,  he  was  not  eloquent,  but  he  was  trusted  because  he 
was  honest.  He  enjoyed  the  respect  of  his  associates, 
because  a  shimmer  in  his  gray  eyes  forbade  any  imposition. 
He  was  a  Covenanter.  His  wagon  had  been  in  use  for  ten 
years,  but  it  was  not  any  the  worse  for  wear.  Being  cautious, 
he  slept  in  or  under  the  wagon,  to  be  protected  from  stray 
horses  or  a  night  attack  from  the  enemy,  and  kept  his  siller 
concealed  in  his  trew's  inner  pocket.  He  was  camped 
as  near  the  Colonel's  headquarters  as  he  could  respectfully, 
for  Uncle  Mac  had  high  regard  for  the  powers  that  be. 
His  childlike  faith  heard  the  old  Brook  kirk  bell  when 
Sabbath  day  appeared;  again  he  heard  his  teacher  say,  "I 
am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life."  By  nature  industrious, 
he  kept  everything  about  him  trim,  his  kit  of  tools  bright 
and  ready  to  work  his  craft  in  wood,  iron,  and  brass.  His 
highwheeled  vehicle  was  marked  "King  George,"  and 
his  harness  was  extra  strong  and  of  English  make,  with 
heavy  brass  trimmings.  His  dog,  Bobby,  was  a  shaggy 
Scotch  terrier,  and  his  horse  a  claybank  Canadian  named 
Charlie.  Uncle  Mac,  Bobby,  and  Charlie  were  inseparable 
companions.  The  old  wanderer  loved  his  tobacco,  his 
bottle,  and  his  bagpipe.  He  was  frugal  in  diet,  laid  aside 
daily  some  provisions  that  he  might  barter  or  sell,  not  for 
the  love  of  sixpence  for  self,  but  that  he  might  enjoy  a 
trade  and  have  a  lively  shilling  to  lend  to  a  needy  brother. 
When  under  the  influence  of  old  "Glen-Livet,"  or  home 
distilled  "Mellow  Nash,"  he  became  talkative  and  his 
thoughts  turned  to  Bonny  Scotland.  He  would  talk  at 
times,  when  tippling  a  bit,  of  far-away  "Thorny  Brook," 
of  his  shieling  high  up  in  the  Highlands,  his  appetite  keen 
for  his  sower,  and  loved  to  listen  to  the  song  of  the  burn, 


374  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

clear  and  rippling,  which  frolicked  and  foamed  as  it  ran 
and  dashed  adown  the  mountains  and  glens.  When  back 
within  that  humble  habitation,  resting  on  his  goat-skins,  he 
cared  neither  for  tarn  nor  torrent.  "Let  me  gang  out,  sir, 
on  the  green  and  play  'Lochiel,  awa  ta  France.' 

Every  one  gave  place  for  Uncle  Mac  and  applauded  him 
to  his  heart's  content.  So  it  is!  Whether  musing  in  a 
Jeremiah  grotto  or  lazily  inhaling  the  fragrance  of  the 
valley  of  Enna,  man  is  one  and  the  same ;  whether  silent  or 
pompous,  he  is  seeking  pleasures  and  panting  for  applause. 
Uncle  Mac  smiled  at  times,  was  friendly  with  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  everyday  life,  and  often  remarked,  "Take  time  to 
think,  and  you'll  come  through  the  rye-patch  right." 

His  stories  of  the  Highlands,  and  the  trossachs,  the  lochs, 
and  the  doons,  of  Wallace  and  Bruce,  were  intensely  inter- 
esting. He  would,  when  merry,  take  up  his  bag-pipe  and 
commence  a  playing,  "The  Campbells  are  coming."  This 
was  the  signal  Bobby  was  waiting  for,  and  his  antics  around 
the  old  Highlander  as  he  danced  and  piped  afforded 
amusement  to  the  hilarious  troopers  gathered  around  the 
ruddy  glow  of  the  camp-fire.  When  he  grew  tired  of  his 
music  and  dancing,  without  any  ceremony,  he  would  find 
his  way  underneath  his  wagon,  lie  down  on  his  rude  pallet, 
and  he  and  Bobby  would  be  seen  peacefully  sleeping  when 
the  forest  songsters  were  awake  and  about,  singing  their 
earliest  morning  lullaby.  He  claimed  that  early  rising  was 
for  the  trapper,  the  poacher,  and  the  fisherman.  All  knew 
Uncle  Mac  and  said  as  they  passed,  "Sleep  on."  The  night 
camp  guards,  returning  to  their  quarters,  would  say,  "Sleep 
on."  He  who  never  won  his  way  with  schemes  and  smiles, 
and  who  had  no  railings  to  put  up  against  his  fate — sleep 
on;  composed  of  many  simples,  no  harmful  deed  was  ever 
parented  by  his  person — sleep  on. 

In  imagination,  he  would  walk  the  Lake  Tay  woods  again 
with  Celestine  the  fair.     Recollections,  forsooth,  reminded 


Uncle  Mac  375 

him  of  the  times  in  fear  he  solicited  the  privilege  of  call- 
ing again.  Those  precious  days!  How  he  doted  on  look- 
ing into  her  hazel  eyes — his  heart  craving  for  a  little  more 
of  promise — one  look  of  answering  love!  Now  he  was 
nearing  three-score  and  nine  and  had  endured  great  priva- 
tions and  crosses.  In  his  dreams  he  could  live  over  those 
sweet  yet  bitter  days  of  unrequited  affection.  He  was 
thankful  that  the  fidelity  of  his  nature  defied  heartless 
time,  to  make  him  forget  those  never-to-be-forgotten  years, 
when  all  the  world  was  young,  when  he  was  in  the  full 
springtime  of  love's  entrancing  pulsations,  when  Celestine 
smiled  and  let  him  hold  her  soft  white  hand.  At  times  a 
longing  to  return,  to  revisit  the  scenes  of  his  choldhood, 
overpowered  him.  In  this  extremity  an  aged  patience 
which  had  made  him  bear  the  yoke  would  come  and  sustain 
him  with  the  belief  that  it  was  but  the  fulfillment  of  the 
decrees  of  Destiny. 

Happy-go-lucky,  Uncle  Mac,  sleep  on!  His  wagon  was 
his  castle,  Bobby  his  porter,  and  his  claybank  his  play- 
fellow. Unstudied  in  the  ways  of  court  chambers,  cherish- 
ing no  revenge  for  some  supposed  grievance,  with  the  inci- 
dental infirmities  of  seventy  annuals  pressing  upon  him, 
he  confidently  turned  to  his  fellows  for  earthly  comfort  and 
was  invariably  comforted  by  them.  Sleep  on!  The  stars 
have  grown  tired  with  watching  and  have  withdrawn  them- 
selves behind  the  eastern  gray  curtain. 

What  a  picture  of  resignation!  The  lightwood  knots 
were  still  a-burning  and  there  he  lay,  homeless,  unrecog- 
nized. He  had  on  his  trunk  hose  and  his  clogs.  His  old 
faded  cross-barred  tartan  is  underneath  him.  His  thin 
cheeks  look  drawn  and  sunken.  He  has  no  kindred  near, 
he  has  no  foes  to  fear,  he  is  sleeping,  roundly  and  soundly, 
like  unto  a  body  without  a  being. 

The  angel  that  came  into  camp  that  night  was  unseen  by 
the  sentinel.     Placid  in  every  feature,  his  bagpipe  in  his 


376  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

arms,  his  dog  by  his  side,  and  gentle  Charlie  hitched  in  the 
rear  of  his  wagon  dozing.  Rough  and  rugged  son  of 
Scotia,  sleep  on!  Sleep?  Aye!  But  should  he  never 
wake  again?  Arouse  him!  Can  it  be  that  his  restless  soul 
is  now  passing  the  bar?  Yes,  passing  here!  "On  un- 
pathed  waters,  undreamed  shores." 


LXI 


ROANOKE  CAMP 

"For  Loves  bow 
Shoots  buck  and  doe." 

Colonel  Colmey  was  at  "The  Place,"  his  side  wound 
annoying  him  intolerably.  The  strenuous  riding  and  fight- 
ing he  had  lately  undergone  had  brought  on  a  severe  pain 
in  his  chest,  and  his  breathing  at  times  was  laborious.  He 
sent  for  Dr.  Zollicoffer. 

The  Doctor  went  over  the  case,  examined  his  chest  by 
palpitation  and  auscultation,  and  he  became  satisfied  that 
the  pistol  ball  was  creating  the  mischief.  He  called  next 
day  with  Dr.  Pasteur,  and  the  old  doctor,  after  examina- 
tion, put  his  finger  down  and  said,  "Claude,  listen  here. 
My  opinion  is  that  the  ball  is  between  the  diaphragm  and 
the  quadratus.  Press  down  and  upward  firmly  and  you'll 
touch  it." 

"Dr.  Pasteur,  I  think  'tis  best  to  cut  down  and  extract  it — 
and  right  now.     It  is  here." 

"Right,  right;  yes,  yes." 

"Do  you  think  best  to  strap  him?" 

"Colonel,  do  you  think  you  can  stand  the  pain  and  not 
roll?" 

"Yes,  Doctor,  I  can  do  what  you  want  me  to  do.  Go 
ahead." 

"Claude,  give  him  ipecac  and  opium,  and  then  get 
ready." 

The  ball  proved  to  be  a  slug  from  an  English  holster,  and 
after  its  removal  Colmey  felt  immensely  relieved. 

Seated  in  the  front  parlor,  the  old  and  the  younger  went 
over  the  case  deliberately. 

377 


378  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Dr.  Pasteur,  I  fear  paralysis  of  the  right  arm,  sooner 
or  later.  His  head  cut  and  his  side  trouble  may  end  badly 
yet." 

"No,  no.  I  must  confess,  Claude,  that  I  think  he  will 
entirely  recover." 

"By  my  halidom,  I  hope  he  will,  and  speedily." 

Major  Iredell  had  ordered  the  Battalion  to  lay  off 
streets,  to  jack  up  quarters  on  the  suburbs  of  the  town,  to 
eat,  rest,  and  be  at  ease,  until  orders  were  received  from 
the  commanding  officer. 

The  trumpet's  ringing  clangor  was  hushed;  the  vaulted 
sky,  the  green-covered  earth,  the  leaf-clad  trees  invited 
peace.  But  all  kinds  of  rumor  invaded  the  camp.  Now 
the  vile  Redcoats  had  driven  across  the  Meherrin  Colonel 
Hasting's  regiment;  now  Arnold  the  traitor  was  committing 
ravages  along  the  tidewater;  and,  worst  of  all,  Washington 
was  at  his  wits'  ends  and  Toryism  in  many  places  was 
rampant. 

There  was  among  the  several  officers  of  the  Battalion 
Lieutenant  Egbert  Bond,  who  had  been  left  wounded  after 
the  fierce  fight  at  Town's  Creek,  where  Captains  Davis  of 
the  Lancers  and  Wright  of  the  Light  Horse  gave  up  their 
lives  fighting  at  the  head  of  their  respective  companies. 
Lieutenant  Bond  was  handsome,  and  his  stay  at  Masonboro 
had  been  enlivened  by  his  odd  fancies,  and  a  highly  prized 
violin  was  brought  with  him  to  "Roanoke  Camp."  Bond 
was  sturdy,  brave,  wealthy  and  polished,  beloved  by  his 
company;  yet  a  fair  lady,  a  winsome  woman,  was  his 
delight,  his  very  life's  essence.  The  ladies  took  to  him, 
gave  parties  here  and  there,  and  the  dark-eyed  Lieutenant 
and  his  violin  were  invited  to  many  homes,  his  bright  smile 
smote  hearts  darkly,  and  he  imparted  his  magnetism  ere  he 
twanged  his  bow.  Often  in  a  flock  of  geese  you  see  one  silly 
giglet  suddenly  sorely  struck. 

Dance  and  song  ever  was  the  thought  of  the  hour  when 
youth  and  beauty  met  and  the  hours  went  by  merrily.  Lieu- 


Roanoke  Camp  379 

tenant  Bond  headed  a  class  that  among  a  large  body  of  men 
are  always  found,  those  whose  time,  whose  dearest  desire, 
is  to  flatter  their  lady,  send  flowers  to  their  lady,  and  steal 
kisses  from  their  lady,  and  dine,  when  asked,  at  all  and 
every  good  dinner.     This  class  are  called  Revelers. 

There  are  those  whose  inclination,  whose  time,  were 
devoted  to  card-playing,  coarse  jokes,  pipe  smoking;  those 
who  did  not  care  a  snap  for  ethics  or  for  life,  just  so  they 
feasted,  had  fun,  were  accoutered  for  a  fight.  These  pre- 
ferred camp  life,  natural  born  soldiers.  They  were  called 
Daredevils. 

Another  class  of  men  you  find :  they  have  a  contempt  for 
gambling,  for  slang,  for  lying;  they  are  ambitious  to  do 
their  whole  duty  as  men  for  the  upholding  of  the  flag,  yet 
they  sigh  for  a  settled  life,  their  father's  smile,  their 
mother's  embrace.     They  are  denominated  Bon-tons. 

And  another,  those  earnestly  desiring  to  have  a  little 
farm  and  it  well-tilled,  a  little  wife  and  a  baby,  a  bouncing 
boy;  when  day  breaks  to  go  to  the  pens,  feed  their  pigs,  at 
noon  sleep  an  hour  on  the  floor  of  the  porch,  and  at  night 
time  wash  their  feet,  go  to  bed  and  restfully  sleep  till  cock- 
crow.   These  are  called  the  Greasers. 

The  British  prisoners  and  the  captured  Tories  were  sent 
south  and  imprisoned.  The  wounded  of  the  Battalion  were 
convalescing,  and  any  news  from  the  coastlands  was  handed 
around. 

The  Colonel  was  confined  at  Colmey  Place,  and  every 
day  some  of  the  officers  rode  over  to  see  him. 

In  the  camp  the  horses  were  taking  on  too  much  flesh,  the 
men  were  getting  to  feel  the  irksomeness  of  confined  space, 
and  they  in  a  body  loudly  asked  to  be  allowed  to  see  their 
Colonel.  The  gear-wheel  of  the  command  had  become 
unharnessed. 

"Boys,  Roanoke  Camp  has  become  a  nuisance  to  me. 
For  once  in  my  life  I  have  had  enough,  ad  nauseam,  of 
lovemaking,  music,  and  moonlight.     I  am  sighing  for  a 


380  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

change,  a  dash  at  the  enemy,  some  ticklish  scouting:  in  a 
word,  away  from  here,  and  some  rougher  risks,  buffetings 
against  griffons,  not  crowkeepers." 

"I  am  no  dabster,  Holmes,  but  these  are  my  sentiments 
to  a  gnat's  heel.  What  is  best  to  do  I  don't  know,  but  I 
do  know  away  from  here  I  want  to  go,  as  sure  as  my  name 
is  Bob  Nixon." 

"Yes,  boys,  our  belts  are  getting  too  small,  our  avoirdu- 
pois too  great;  we  are  but  fattening  hogs,  getting  rusty  and 
greasy.     Say,  Taylor,  lead  us  'The  boatie  rows.'     Sing, 

boys." 

"/  coo'st  my  line  in  Largo  Bay 

And  fishes  I  catched  nine. 
'Tivas  three  to  boil  and  three  to  fry, 
And  three  to  bait  the  line. 

"The  boatie  rows,  the  boatie  rows, 
The  boatie  roivs,  indeed; 
And  happy  be  the  lot  o'  a' 
Wha  wishes  her  to  speed." 

The  Battalion  had  been  ordered  to  Colmey  Place.  "See 
to  it  at  once,  Uncle  Addison;  see  that  barrels  of  corn  are 
sent  at  once  to  the  mill  and  send  to  Weldon  for  twelve 
barrels  of  extra  flour,  and  have  up  twenty  shoats  and 
three  good  steers.  See  to  it  at  once.  Uncle  Osborne,  go 
in  the  light  wagon  and  buy  chickens  and  eggs.  I  am 
assured  that  we  have  a  plentiful  supply  of  bacon.  Chester, 
go  overto  Mr.  Bradford's  and  tell  him  to  send  me  two 
barrels  of  his  oldest  and  best  wine.  We  must  take  care  of 
the  men  until  the  commissary  officer  comes  with  supplies." 

The  bugle  gave  notice  in  the  distance  that  the  Battalion 
was  coming.  The  great  black  stallion  neighed  loudly  a 
royal  welcome  to  the  squadrons.  The  gates  had  been 
opened  all  the  morning;  every  little,  every  big,  and  every 
old  negro  on  the  place  was  in  holiday  attire  and  on  tiptoe 
of  expectation.     And  now  a  great  blare  of  trumpets. 


Roanoke  Camp  381 

"Well,  Colonel,  we  are  here." 

"Iredell  and  all — my  love  and  a  hearty  Halifax 
welcome!" 

The  Battalion  filed  into  the  great  grove  and  awaited 
orders. 

"Colonel,  won't  you  please  speak  to  the  men;  they  have 
been  almost  crazy  to  see  you." 

"Attention!  It  is  needless  to  tell  you  my  heart  throbs 
with  emotions  of  love  inexpressible  and  thankfulness  to  see 
the  Battalion  once  again,  here  at  my  home.  I  want  you, 
one  and  all,  to  feel  that  my  home  is  your  home.  Prepare 
to  dismount!     Dismount!     Break  ranks!" 

A  great  shout  went  up,  "Boys,  we've  got  him  good 
again!" 


LXII 

JEAN  COLMEY  AND  MAY  MONTFORT 

"Did  not  the  heavenly  rhetoric  of  thy  eye 

'Gainst  whom  the  world  could  not  show  argument?" 

Dr.  Zollicoffer  sat  in  his  office,  musing.  "James,  bring 
around  saddled  the  roan  mare." 

"Well,  what  is  love?  It  must  be  quite  a  foolish  abnor- 
mality that  disturbs  the  body  and  equilibrium.  It  aggra- 
vates the  nervous  ganglia — the  Sion  brothers.  Some  peo- 
ple can  and  some  cannot  love — the  holy  love — that  should 
pervade  one's  being  for  a  life-companion.  Yes,  the  young 
man  anxious  for  political  preferment  seeks  the  one  of  the 
family  that  can  help  him  to  office;  the  money-lover  looks 
around  for  the  woman  with  a  big  bank  account  or  a  large 
landed  estate.  Now,  there  is  Miss  Montfort  and  the 
Colonel — both  in  love  and  don't  know  it.  Yes,  I  loved 
once,  but  the  storm-swept  Chesapeake  drank  up  the  life  of 
my  promised  bride.  I  hate  Death — never-satisfied  Death. 
The  best  man  and  woman  (except  Claribel  Randolph)  God 
ever  made,  Death's  maw  swallowed.  Damn  me,  I  intend  to 
fight  Death  as  long  as  life  lasts — no  marrying  for  me.  A 
priest  and  a  physician  should  be  single,  the  one  to  win  souls, 
and  the  other  a  life-saver.  I'll  fight  Death  to  a  finish,  single 
handed!  My  beroon  shall  be  my  saddle.  I've  done  and 
volunteered  for  the  war  long  ago — long  or  short!" 

Several  days  after  Dr.  Zollicoffer  had  searched  for  the 
ball  and  failed  to  find  it,  he  rode  up  to  Montfort  Manor. 
"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Montfort.  Being  here  to  see  one  of 
the  hands,  I  came  to  tell  you  we  have  not  yet  gotten  the  ball 
out  of  Colonel  Colmey's  side.     He  is  in  a  bad  fix  and  very 

382 


Jean  Colmey  and  May  Montfort  383 

much  cast  down.  He  told  me  if  he  couldn't  be  of  any 
service  to  his  country  he  was  going  home,  but  his  home  is 
in  ashes  and  his  children  scattered.  I  noticed  his  secretary 
and  courier  looked  downhearted.  Mrs.  Montfort,  I  really 
think  Colonel  Colmey  is  a  doomed  man." 

That  night  there  was  no  sleep  for  May  Montfort.  "Go- 
ing home — fearing  paralysis — a  doomed  man — his  chil- 
dren scattered.  My  dear  Lord,  help  me!  I  must  see  him 
and  help  him  or  die."  That  night  she  told  her  mother  all. 
"The  weaker  he  grows  from  his  wounds  the  stronger  grows 
my  love  for  him." 

Immediately  after  dinner  Mrs.  Montfort  ordered  the  gig 
and  took  with  her  Mrs.  Tabb.  She  drove  over  to  Colmey 
Place.  The  Colonel  met  them  and  invited  them  cordially 
to  come  in. 

"Colonel,  we  have  missed  you  so  keenly.  Won't  you 
come  to  see  us?  We  have  called  to  see  you.  Now,  promise 
to  come  and  dine  with  us  soon.     Please  don't  refuse." 

"Refuse!  Refuse  the  people  who  saved  my  life?  I 
shall  most  gladly  visit  you  again.  How  is  Miss  May?  I  feel 
I  owe  to  her  my  life.  I  beg  you  to  tell  her  that  when  I 
go  back  home  I  shall  tell  my  boy  and  girl  of  her  kindness 
to  me  when  I  was  so  desperately  wounded  and  unconscious 
of  my  surroundings." 

May  Montfort  was  to  him  as  holy  as  a  benitier  to  a 
Benedictine  monk. 

Mrs.  Montfort  returned  home  and  told  May  that  he  was 
coming  again.  Like  unto  the  heavenly  dome  in  early 
morning,  when  the  roseate  tints  paint  the  eastern  sky  so 
beautifully  at  dawn,  so  was  the  face  of  May  Montfort. 
She  moved  as  if  light  and  love  were  coming  into  her  life 
again.  She  went  upstairs  into  his  room.  She  pressed  the 
pillows  his  head  had  rested  upon  to  her  burning  cheeks. 

"He  is  coming  again!  I  shall  see  him!  I  shall  be  near 
him  again!" 

Colmey,  accompanied  by  Remo,  drove  in  a  walk  to  Mont- 


384  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

fort  Manor.  As  a  rule,  a  man  intuitively  recognizes  the 
real  or  unreal  caring  by  the  woman  he  is  most  interested  in. 
It  is  then  when  the  soul  of  man  holds  in  counsel  with  his 
body  in  Love's  castle;  the  heart  then  and  there  records 
unerringly  the  true  intent  and  meaning  of  his  lady's  fair 
smile  and  his  standing  in  her  affections. 

The  beam  from  the  eye  of  May  Montfort,  from  the  time 
when  the  cup  of  water  was  handed  to  him  by  her  at  the 
Colmey  wayside  spring,  was  then  and  had  been  there  re- 
corded upon  the  tablets  of  his  heart  ever  since,  and  time 
had  not  effaced  the  glow,  only  mellowed  the  heavenly 
radiance. 

As  he  drew  near  the  home  of  her  of  his  heart's  adora- 
tion, he  felt  somewhat  ashamed  of  himself  for  going  to 
Hicksford  and  not  saying  a  word  to  her  about  it.  But  he 
was  afraid  she  might  object  on  account  of  his  wounds;  but 
Colonel  Tarleton  had  given  a  wound  in  the  cut-up  of  one  of 
his  companies  that  he  burned  to  wipe  out  by  striking  back 
at  him,  and  he  was  afraid  Colonel  Hastings  might  think 
wrong  as  to  the  watchfulness  and  steadiness  of  his  Bat- 
talion. 

May  was  on  the  front  porch,  bending  over  a  rose  gera- 
nium, dressed  in  white.  The  knowledge  that  she  was  pure 
and  faithful  added  an  indefinable  charm  to  her  person. 
He  thought  that  he  had  never  seen  her  so  beautiful  before, 
that  there  was  an  angelic  veil  that  seemed  to  encompass 
her.  Her  face  was  radiant  with  joy  when  she  turned  her 
head  and  saw  him.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  run  and  meet 
him,  but  checking  herself,  she  awaited  his  approach. 

Slowly  walking  up  the  steps,  he  joyfully  said,  "How  do 
you  do,  Miss  Montfort?  I  am  glad  to  see  you  once  more. 
I  have  come  bearing  a  message  of  much  tenderness  from 
the  dying  lips  of  the  brave  Colonel  Boiling.  I  also  had  the 
honor  to  be  invited  to  the  Manor  once  again." 

"I  am  truly  glad  to  see  you,  Colonel  Colmey,  and  I 
shall  ever  cherish  the  memory  of  that  gallant  soldier.     I 


Jean  Colmey  and  May  Montfort  385 

have  heard  you  were  near  by  when  he  received  his  fatal 
wound.  You  were  fortunate  to  be  spared  to  see  your 
friends  again.  Mother  told  me  you  had  promised  to  call 
soon." 

"Yes,  Miss  May,  for  a  moment  or  two  I  felt  sure  we 
would  fall  together;  but  from  the  jaws  of  death  I  escaped 
and  my  comrade  was  taken." 

"I  should  have  thought,  Colonel  Colmey,  you  would 
have  troubled  yourself  so  much  as  to  have  called  and  bade 
us  good-bye.  I  must  confess  I  felt  chilled  by  your  in- 
difference." 

"Fair  lady,  am  I  past  your  sweet  reprieve — your  gra- 
cious pardon?  I  dreaded  to  make  known  to  you  my  de- 
termination, knowing  you  were  concerned  over  my  wounds. 
But  Colonel  Tarleton  is  a  rough  soldier,  daring  to  dare,  and 
not  tender-hearted  when  his  sword  is  drawn.  He  surprised 
my  Battalion  in  the  darkness  of  twilight.  I  could  not 
restrain  myself.  I  knew  my  honor  was  touched,  and  I 
struck  for  my  flag  and  my  country.  Can  I  not  hope  for 
forgiveness  for  a  badly  bruised  soldier,  for  a  man  that  is 
rapidly  aging?  I  have  no  father,  no  mother,  only  two 
children  waiting  for  me  down  by  the  moaning  sea." 

Colonel  Colmey  walked  over  to  the  east  window,  deeply 
moved. 

May,  fearing  she  might  show  her  emotion,  said,  "Oh, 
Colonel  Colmey,  don't  think  I  am  unappeasable — no!  A 
brave  man  covered  with  wounds  appeals  to  all  that  is  sanc- 
tified within  me.  I  rejoice  because  you  are  safe,  and  I 
pray  to  the  God  of  battles  to  shield,  direct,  and  uphold 
you." 

Colmey  saw  love's  luster  lighting  up  May's  lakelike 
eyes.  "I  am  free  to  say  that  my  ideal  of  manhood  has 
ever  been  and  will  ever  be  the  booted  soldier." 

Mrs.  Montfort,  being  dull  of  hearing  came  listlessly  into 
the  room,  unobserving  the  occupancy  of  it.  She  stared, 
surprised  at  seeing  Colonel  Colmey,  but  at  once  bowed  and 

25 


386  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

extended  her  hand  and  heartily  welcomed  him.  "The 
passing  of  the  noble  Colonel  Boiling  filled  us  all  with  sad- 
ness. I  heard  you  were  in  the  charge  and  by  him  when 
hurt.  This  cruel  war  is  robbing  wives  of  their  husbands, 
mothers  of  their  sons,  and  friends  of  their  companions.  I 
look  upon  war  as  a  terrible  calamity  that  should  in  some 
way  be  honorably  averted.  Of  course,  we  must  face  it 
now,  and  pray  for  our  country's  success." 

"Mrs.  Montfort,  I  most  heartily  say  amen  to  all  you 
have  said.  I  assisted  Boiling  back  to  camp  and  held  his 
hand  while  his  precious  life  was  ebbing.  And  when  I  con- 
sider how  close  the  call  was  for  me — that  I  came  near  never 
seeing  you  all  alive  again — I  am  impelled  to  lighten  my 
oppressed  heart  and  ask  your  sweet  charity  to  be  extended 
toward  me;  if  I  am  rash  and  heady,  that  you  will  feel  more 
pity  than  anger,  when  I  make  now  the  bold  beseechment  to 
you  for  your  daughter's  hand  in  marriage." 

"It  is  for  her  to  decide."  Mrs.  Montfort  withdrew,  leav- 
ing alone  the  persons  who  had  been  separated  in  body  for 
years,  but  not  a  day  in  spirit. 

Her  voice  was  never  so  sweet,  her  cheek  so  like  the 
blushing  moss-rose,  her  swan-like  movement  was  never  so 
divine. 

Oh,  consecrated  hour! 

"Blow,  trumpet,  blow! 
For  the  world  is  white  with  May; 
Blow,  trumpet!  the  long  night 
Hath  passed  away." 


LXIII 

THE  ROUT  OF  THE  TORIES 

"Best  march  away, 
Hector  is  dead,  there  is  no  more  to  say." 

"Orderly,  my  compliments  to  Major  Iredell  and  the 
several  captains;  say  I  wish  them  to  report  to  my  tent  at 
10:30." 

"Come  in,  gentlemen.  I  wish  to  say  that  the  four  new 
companies  that  I  have  been  ordered  to  raise,  I  think  it  best 
to  absorb  a  portion  of  them  into  the  old  companies.  Say, 
detach  twenty-five  veterans  from  each  company  of  the 
Battalion  to  be  a  nucleus;  to  absorb  twenty-five  men  into 
each  old  company,  the  balance  to  be  placed  with  the  new 
companies,  thus  making  a  total  of  one  thousand  men.  I 
take  it  to  be  a  safe  maxim:  intermingle  the  novice  with  the 
seasoned  trooper.  To  let  the  'old  men'  of  the  new  com- 
panies elect  the  captain  and  the  first  lieutenant,  and  the 
new  men  to  elect  the  second  and  third  lieutenants ;  that  they 
too  have  the  privilege  of  electing  their  commissioned  officers 
from  the  Battalion  if  they  should  so  prefer.  The  non- 
commissioned officers  to  be  equally  divided,  except  die  first 
sergeant,  the  captain  of  each  company  to  appoint  his  or- 
derly. Should  there  be  a  vacancy  to  occur  in  the  Battalion 
and  after  the  formation  of  the  regiment,  I  shall  fill  all 
vacancies  that  may  occur  among  the  commissioned  officers. 
My  judgment  is  to  thus  place  the  men;  in  a  word,  mix  up 
the  old  and  the  new,  that  it  will  make  the  recruits  more 
tractable  and  strengthened  for  sharp  service.  The  old 
veterans,  as  we  may  say,  will  be  as  guideposts,  examplers, 
in  camp  and  in  emergencies.  What  say  you,  Major  Iredell? 
What  say  you,  captains?" 

387 


388  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

One  and  all  gave  hearty  assent. 

"I  wish  the  third  lieutenant  and  the  third  sergeant  of 
each  company  of  the  Battalion  to  go  out  along  the  coast- 
lands  and  secure  these  recruits.  They  are  to  rendezvous 
between  the  lake  and  the  White  Doe  Spring."     (See  notes.) 

The  Colonel  arose,  the  officers  saluted  and  retired  except 
Major  Iredell.     Coming  away,  some  debate  took  form. 

"Captain  Hawks,  if  there  can  be  a  fault,  an  objection 
alleged  against  our  Colonel,  it  would  be  because  he  so 
persistently  requires  that  a  commissioned  officer  of  our 
Battalion  must  be  a  man  of  culture  and  wealth.  That  old 
Norman  precedent  I  have  never  fancied.  Surely  our 
Colonel  has  never  taken  time  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  writings  of  John  Wycliffe." 

"Well,  say,  Saunders,  Chicicky  or  Saxon,  am  I  to  under- 
stand that  you  think  that  Jehovah  made  a  mistake  when  He 
selected  the  lion-hearted  Judah  the  lead  tribe,  instead  of 
Naphthali,  'the  hind  let  loose'?  By  our  St.  Benedict,  the 
thought  smites  me  that  you  would  prefer  breakfasting  with 
the  laird  rather  than  a  cotter.  You,  Saunders,  you  know 
to  a  dot  the  difference  between  a  span  worm  and  a  spear- 
fish;  you  further  must  mentally  admit  that  intelligence  and 
abundance  of  themselves  have  sovereign  weightiness.  Un- 
less my  mind  has  been  mistrained,  Colonel  Colmey  is 
right.     Allons!" 

"Iredell,  I  reckon,  as  you  feel  unwell,  'tis  best  to  send 
Devane." 

"When  are  we  to  start,  Colonel,  and  how  far  is  it?" 

"It  is  about  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  away.  If  you  go, 
'tis  best  to  start  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  and  strike 
them  at  daybreak.  I  will  send  the  Onslow  Bays  to  follow 
you,  to  be  in  call  if  needed.  You  know  they  are  the  stead- 
iest of  the  steady.     Iredell,  do  you  desire  to  go?" 

"Colonel,  I  am  here  to  obey  your  orders,  sir." 

"Iredell,  get  there  before  day,  and  you  and  Saunders 
and  Mr.  Griffin  reconnoitre  the  premises  closely;  don't  trust 


The  Rout  of  the  Tories  389 

to  others.  See  to  it  yourself.  Their  sentinels  will  be 
sleepy  and  you  can  get  up  to  them  safely.  At  daybreak 
be  mounted,  sound  the  bugles,  and  charge  them  with  a  yell. 
Ennett  with  the  Bays  and  Foy  with  the  Queen  Annes 
will  be  in  supporting  distance  if  things  go  wrong.  Leave 
a  man  at  every  crossing  and  cross-roads,  Iredell,  to  pilot 
Ennett,  for  it  is  so  annoying  to  go  up  against  bad  outways 
in  darkness.     I  will  come  anyhow  if  you  need  me. 

"Colonel,  I  can't  see  any  hard  luck  ahead." 

"No,  you  will  ride  down  all  opposition;  but  out  of  an 
abundance  of  caution  I  thought  best  to  send  supports." 
When  alone,  Colmey  walked  his  tent  nervously:  "Orderly, 
go  ask  Captain  Capehart  to  come  here." 

"Come  in,  Capehart.  Say,  can't  you  get  a  good  excuse 
up  and  not  go  on  this  expedition?  Iredell  has  two  good 
captains." 

"Well,  Colonel,  the  Major  seems  so  very  anxious  for  me 
to  go  along  with  him,  I  hate  to  refuse  him.  He  told  me  he 
would  feel  better  if  I  could  accompany  him." 

"I  can't  imagine  to  save  my  life  what  in  the  hell  is  the 
matter  with  Iredell.  He  well  knows  I  didn't  want  you  to 
go.     Capehart,  be  careful;  don't  go." 

"Here  now,  Jean,  don't  woman  me,  old  fellow.  I  have 
given  my  promise  to  the  Major.  Don't  make  me  break  it; 
don't,  Jean." 

"Damn  Iredell!  Capehart,  if  you  must  go,  here,  take 
my  embrace.     God  be  with  you — go!" 

At  noon  next  day  Mr.  Griffin  returned  to  camp  ahead  of 
the  squadron  and  reported  the  rout  of  the  Tories,  that 
several  men  were  wounded,  and  one  killed. 

"Hector  is  gone.     Who  shall  tell  Priam  so?" 

"Captain  Saunders,  ride  on  and  report  the  fight  and 
break  to  the  Colonel  the  death  of  Capehart.  I  can't  do  it. 
Colonel  Colmey  will  hate  me,  and  Capehart's  old  company 
will  be  in  a  rage.     I  would  to  God  it  was  not  so." 


390  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"What,  Saunders!  Capehart  dead?  My  early,  my  dear- 
est friend  fallen?" 

"Colonel,  he  was  shot  through  the  heart  at  the  head  of 
the  squadron  with  the  Major.  He  died  a  soldier's  death, 
his  face  to  the  foe." 

The  Colonel,  overwhelmed  with  grief,  gave  orders  for 
his  body  to  rest  with  his  old  company  for  the  night,  and 
next  morning  to  be  sent  to  his  home  near  Edenton.  The 
wounded  were  given  good  quarters  and  nursed,  the  Colonel 
daily  visiting  them  in  person." 

"Say,  Lieutenant,  come  by  and  tell  us  about  the  fight." 

"Well,  gentlemen,  it  was  grand  and,  alas!  gloomy.  You 
see,  as  the  gray  streaks  were  seen  in  the  east  the  bugles 
sounded  the  charge.  Major  Iredell  had  already  captured 
quietly  the  outposts  and  had  located  the  scoundrels  to  a  dot. 
He  and  Captains  Capehart,  Saunders,  and  Bellamy  led  the 
squadron.  Captain  Beard  was  surprised,  but  he  fought 
courageously  and  his  half-breeds  backed  him  up  manfully. 
Some  Santee  Indians,  under  old  Torchwood,  who  were  with 
him,  sent  showers  of  arrows  into  our  faces  as  we  charged 
on  them,  yelling.  The  Tories  had  ransacked  the  neighbor- 
hood for  bacon  and  brandy,  and  had  seasonably  sent  off  to 
the  reservation  a  wagon  load  of  meat  and  corn  under  Lone 
Jack  and  his  Chowans.  The  Tories  fired  at  us  and  took  to 
the  bushes.  Captain  Capehart  acted  recklessly;  he  rode 
down  Captain  Beard  and  was  shot  through  his  heart.  Oh, 
he  was  brave!  I  shall  always  remember  him  as  the  Fear- 
less! The  women  had  been  maltreated,  made  to  cook  for 
the  motley  crowd,  hugged,  kissed,  and  cursed.  Two  of  the 
very  handsomest  had  been  tied,  to  be  carried  off  by  the 
Santees  for  future  dalliance  and  servitude.  You  ought  to 
have  seen  our  troopers  rally — they  seemed  crazy  over  Cap- 
tain Capehart's  fall,  and  they  slashed  and  killed  Santees 
and  half-breeds  until  Major  Iredell  remonstrated  with 
them.     Oh,  it  was  a  great  fight  and  a  big  Tory  routing." 

The  flag  was  at  half-mast.     Colonel  Colmey  went  to  the 


The  Rout  of  the  Tories  391 

tent  where  Captain  Capehart  lay  in  state,  Reginald  Hum- 
phrey and  LeRoy  Averitt  sitting  by  his  body,  and  four 
guards  in  front.  Saluting  one  and  all,  saying  not  a  word 
to  any  one,  Colmey  knelt  by  the  cold  body  of  his  friend, 
bent  his  head  in  prayer,  arose,  kissed  his  icy  brow,  and 
sobbingly  departed.  The  Colonel  refused  to  see  any  one, 
referred  everything  to  the  Major  for  three  days.  His 
orderly,  Almon  Brinson,  sat  with  bent  head  at  his  tent  door. 
A  gloom  overspread  the  camp,  for  Captain  Capehart  was  a 
universal  favorite.  After  the  time  had  expired  the  Colonel 
took  up  his  duties  and  the  Major  was  sent  for  to  report  at 
headquarters. 

"Iredell,  call  out  the  men;  you  know  regular  drilling 
makes  men  amenable  to  orders,  and  high-spirited  officers 
to  lead  men  is  what  makes  a  good  battalion.  Food,  drill, 
and  fight  go  together.  Men  must  be  made  to  feel  the  grip 
of  discipline;  they  must,  Iredell,  get  used  to  the  bit  and 
spur.  It  teaches  them  to  obey,  to  cooly  stand  fire  and  keep 
fighting.  We  must  get  the  work  to  teach  the  men  to  have  a 
contempt  for  obstacles  and  privations,  that  right  now  their 
calling  is  to  kill  our  enemies,  to  follow  the  flag." 

The  bugle  at  headquarters  sounded  "Boots  and  saddles." 
The  men  to  a  man  commenced  grumbling.  "Say,  Manly,  I 
do  hope  Major  Iredell  will  not  go  crazy  in  having  us  to  be 
eternally  drilling." 

The  sergeants  were  calling  in  every  company.  "Fall  in, 
men!    What's  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Lieutenant  Bloodworm,  blister  me  if  I  don't  believe  the 
Major  is  beside  himself.  It  is  drill,  left  wheel,  right 
moulinet.     Bah!" 

"DeRossett,  not  so.  It  is  that  everlasting  fussy  Adju- 
tant that  has  us  hounded  out  for  him  to  sit  horse  and  holler, 
'Dress  on  your  colors!'  " 

"Ashe,  the  Colonel,  I  believe,  has  a  hand  in  all  this,  but 
I'd  bet  my  horse  and  saddle  you  can't  get  a  man  in  the 
whole  command  to  open  his  mouth  disparagingly  against 
him.     He  is  impeccable  to  them." 


LXIV 


COLONEL  COLMEY'S  TENT 

"Let  me  speak  proudly: 
We  are  but  warriors  for  the  working  day; 
Our  gayness  and  our  gilt  are  all  besmirched 
With  marching. 
But  by  the  mass,  our  hearts  are  in  the  trim." 

— King  Henry  V. 

Colonel  Colmey  sat  within  his  tent  in  deep  contemplation. 
"My  orders  from  headquarters  are  for  me  to  obtain  infor- 
mation of  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  the  number  of  men, 
artillery  and  cavalry  and  their  destination.  One  column  is 
marching  from  Suffolk,  Virginia,  down  eastward,  under 
General  Leslie;  the  other  column  is  coming  up  from  Wil- 
mington under  General  Kniphausen,  heading  for  New  Bern 
or  Kinston,  I  suppose,  to  unite  the  two  forces  for  broader 
and  bolder  activities.  My  duty  is  plain.  I  must  not  let 
these  people  quietly  get  in  touch  with  each  other,  but  I 
must  strike  aptly  and  boldly.  I  must  send  good  men  to 
find  out  the  separate  movements;  if  practicable,  strike  the 
Suffolk  column  as  they  cross  the  Tar  River,  and  then  hastily 
attack  the  Wilmington  force,  which  is  larger  and  more 
dangerous  to  meet,  as  they  cross  the  Neuse  or  the  Trent 
River." 

"Lieutenant  Pogue,  go  and  ask  Captains  Hawks  and 
Devane,  Acting  Captain  Humphrey,  and  Captain  Ennett  to 
come  to  my  tent.  Leave  word  for  Major  Iredell  to  come  as 
soon  as  he  gets  back  to  camp. 

"I  shall  go  to  the  old  Indian  fort,  Nahucky,  near  Snow 
Hill,  and  camp;  and  from  there  act  as  the  exigency  may 
demand.  There  is  reported  quite  a  fleet  at  Wilmington 
under  Sir  Peter  Parker." 

392 


Colonel  Colmey's  Tent  393 

"Gentlemen,  please  be  seated.  I  wish  to  apprise  you 
of  the  fact  that  there  are  sharp  workdays  ahead  for  us,  and 
I  trust  we  all  have  a  stomach  for  the  occasion.  These  two 
bodies  of  troops,  well  officered  and  well  armed,  we  must 
deal  with  as  best  we  may.     Hawks,  what  say  you?" 

"Colonel  Colmey,  but  one  word  I  have  to  say,  and  that  is, 
put  me  and  my  Cavaliers  in  the  front  of  the  fight." 

"Now,  Devane?" 

"Colonel,  as  you  have  told  us,  that  the  Wilmington 
British  and  German  column  you  will  attack  somewhere 
near  the  Neuse,  all  I  ask  of  you  is  to  place  me  in  the  danger 
zone,  with  my  Cape  Fear  Light  Horse,  and,  God  will  it, 
we  will  give  a  glorious  account  of  ourselves." 

"Now,  Ennett?" 

"Colonel,  I  will  let  Humphrey  speak  for  both  of  us." 

"Well,  Humphrey?" 

"Colonel  Colmey,  captains  one  and  all,  you  have  spoken 
like  true  and  lusty  gentlemen;  I  would  give  each  one  a 
soldier's  hardy  embrace;  but,  Colonel,  Onslow  County  is 
being  devastated  and  looted,  her  fair  women  maltreated. 
Now,  sir,  I  beg  you,  let  Captain  Ennett  and  myself — native 
Onslownians — go  up  against  those  murderous  miscreants, 
with  the  Guards  and  the  Bays,  and  we  will  hold  them  to  a 
bloody  reckoning." 

"Well,  gentlemen,  we  must  conserve  our  time.  Let  me 
bid  you  all  fair  health  and  steady  nerves,  and  now  good 
morning.     Iredell,  stay  with  me." 

"Iredell,  I  have  heard  that  the  Wilmington  force  has 
many  runaways  with  them,  the  negroes  are  of  course  well 
acquainted  with  the  roads  and  lanes  and  the  sentiments  of 
the  people,  having  no  doubt  heard  their  masters  discuss 
the  British-German  invasion  of  the  eastern  counties.  Now, 
give  me  your  idea  of  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

"Colonel,  every  officer  has  implicit  confidence  in  your 
judgment  and  discretion  and  your  courage.  You  order — 
we  will  carry  out  your  orders." 


394  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

"Iredell,  those  bold  raiders  from  Suffolk  are  used  to 
buffeting  Nansemond  County,  Southampton,  and  even 
Princess  Anne,  and  they  jocosely  congratulated  themselves 
that  the  North  Carolina  counties  of  Gates,  Chowan,  Bertie 
and  Pitt  will  allow  them  to  rudely  swoop  over  them,  but,  by 
good  Queen  Anne,  they  shall  have  a  rude  awakening! 
Come  tonight,  Iredell,  to  see  me  and  we  will  talk  over  the 
coming  of  those  saucy  German  butchers,  for  I  am  told  they 
are  stout  fighters." 

"Colonel,  we  will  keep  a  finger  on  our  mouths  and 
quietly  sharpen  our  weapons  and  at  the  river  crossing  brain 
the  rascals  with  our  keen  Carolina  sabers;  to  use  a  camp 
phrase,  'our  men  will  eat  'em  up.' 

"Well,  they  are  gone  to  their  tents,  full  of  fight.  What  a 
splendid  lot  of  mates  I  have!  By  the  Holy  Rood,  'they  are 
gentles  every  one.'  Just  to  think,  my  doughty  captains 
quarreling  for  the  place  of  most  danger,  ever  the  post  of 
honor.  Ah!  if  'Charlie  from  over  the  water,'  at  fatal  Cullo- 
den,  could  have  had  his  officers  like  these  of  mine,  Prince 
William  would  not  have  been  the  victor.  Faction,  fatigue, 
and  want  of  food  did  there  the  deadly  work. 

"I  have  sent  Lieutenant  Hardee  and  Sergeant  Dawson  to 
find  and  number  the  Suffolk  raiders,  and  Lieutenants 
Williams  and  Ballard  with  two  Onslow  Bays  to  go  and  get 
me  the  most  minute  information  of  the  Wilmington  maraud- 
ers, now  about  Holly  Shelter,  I  should  suppose.  Iredell, 
with  Hawks  and  Saunders,  assisted  by  Foy's  Battery,  will 
go  up  against  those  people  that  will  soon  be  in  Pitt  County. 
I  shall  expect  Iredell  to  about  annihilate  them.  Then,  all 
together,  I  shall  take  the  Battalion  and  in  due  season  meet 
the  enemy  at  the  crossing  of  the  Neuse,  and  then  and  there 
fight  it  out;  their  boasted  Simcoe  Rangers,  Craig's  Cavalry, 
and  German  Hussars,  reported  to  be  picked  men.  I  shall 
lead  the  Guards  myself — after  Iredell  charges  with  Hawks 
and  Devane;  Bellamy  and  Ennett,  dismounted,  attacking 
fiercely  their  flank;  Foy,  shelling  them  at  the  crossing;  and 


Colonel  Colmey's  Tent  395 

at  the  proper  moment  I  shall  charge  headlong  into  their 
midst  and  let  the  Prussian  officers  and  Craig  feel  the  swords 
of  the  North  Carolina  cavalrymen  slashing  their  heads 
and  piercing  their  bowels.  I  am  determined  to  seek  Craig; 
he  is  a  game  man  and  very  troublesome;  and  with  the 
Guards  drive,  hew  my  way,  until  I  get  at  him.  Humphrey, 
I  fear,  will  lose  control  of  himself  in  the  ardor  of  a  hot 
fight.  Heaven  give  us  success!  And  now  I  must  go  to 
work,  get  the  men,  horses,  and  munitions  in  prime  condi- 
tion to  beat  off  this  dangerous  incursion." 

"Cherrily  we  welcome  the  fact  that  the  black  mists  of 
despair  have  melted  away  and  the  skies  are  clearing.  I 
am  told  that  the  armed  fleet  of  glorious  France  in  Hampton 
Roads  are  riding,  alongside  of  our  warships  there  flying 
the  Star-Spangled  Banner. 

"I  feel  that  the  eminent  service  of  Pulaski  and  Kosciusko 
have  lastingly  endeared  Poland  to  the  American  Colonies, 
and  I  know  within  me  that  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  for  the 
States  to  weigh  warily  well  every  politico-economic  act  of 
Great  Britain;  for  no  nation  has  a  greater  man  power  or  a 
more  subtle  brain  resource  than  the  would-be  mistress  of 
the  seas,  the  would-be  arbiter  of  the  world. 

"With  bent  neck,  I  beg  of  you,  Divine  Lord,  to  let  us 
'hear  the  sound  in  the  tops  of  the  mulberry  trees'*  that  will 
guide  us  to  victory." 

"Here  comes  a  courier  from  Williams  or  Ballard — he 
has  a  blown  horse  and  muddy  boots — I  reckon  with  news 
that  I  am  waiting  for. 

"Say,  how  now,  Fonvielle?  When  and  where  parted  you 
from  Lieutenant  Williams?" 

"These  papers,  Colonel  Colmey,  will  make  known  to 
you. 

"Here,  orderly,  go  with  the  courier,  help  him  to  unsad- 


*A  biblical  reference. 


396  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

die,  feed  up,  and  see  that  he  is  well  dined,  as  he  looks 
much  fatigued." 

Ten  Miles  South  Neuse  River  (9  p.  m.) 
Fully  2,500  Irish,  Scotch,  and  Germans,  a  good  park  of  artil- 
lery, cavalry  (Craig's  and  the  German  Hussars),  well  mounted; 
column  gathering  supplies  for  Cornwallis;  they  are  burning 
Whig  homes,  looting  and  maltreating  citizens;  they  are  not  kept 
well  together — as  they  fear  no  attack;  good  many  stragglers. 

Signed:  W.  and  B. 

"Well,  all  this  means  a  hard  fight  against  odds,  but 
Williams  says  they  seem  to  'fear  no  attack,'  are  not  kept  in 
close  touch  with  each  branch  of  the  service.  Ah!  that  is 
where  I  shall  strike — at  their  weak  point.  So  far,  so  good. 
Mischief  is  afoot  from  the  east.  I  hear  the  raincrow  croak; 
tomorrow  it  will  be  raining." 


LXV 

DEPARTURE  OF  THE  BATTALION  FOR  THE  COAST-LANDS 

"Stand  for  your  own, 
Unwind  your  bloody  flag." 

The  Battalion  was  in  most  acceptable  quarters;  all  felt 
as  if  each  one  was  at  home,  as  much  so  as  one  can  feel 
when  away  from  home.  The  loss  of  Captain  Capehart  was 
never  referred  to,  as  it  brought  gloom  and  sorrow  to  the 
camp.  Now  Colonel  Colmey  was  married.  His  wife  took 
with  the  troopers.  In  a  merry  way  the  officers  elected  her 
their  Pro  Tern  Lieutenant-Colonel,  and  each  company  vied 
with  the  other  as  to  which  could  show  and  pay  to  her  the 
most  dutiful  respect.  The  American  Revolution  had  as- 
sumed gigantic  proportions.  France  had  become  an  ardent 
ally — she  loved  America,  she  hated  Britain.  Washington, 
Caswell,  Sumter,  and  Oglethorpe  had  become  household 
words  in  the  Southland.  The  British  were  again  gathering 
at  Wilmington  and  foraging  from  Folly  Inlet  to  Topsail. 
The  Tories  were  picking  up,  marauding  their  neighbors, 
and  troops  were  needed  to  brave  the  British  and  check  the 
fever  of  Toryism.  It  was  soon  told  from  post  to  post  that 
the  Colmey  Six  Hundred  were  coming,  that  Briton  and 
American  were  to  cross  swords  again. 

Soldiers  always  attract  the  people,  the  blare  of  the  trum- 
pets, the  booming  of  the  guns.  The  rumor  went  abroad 
that  the  Battalion  was  ordered  away;  that  soon  they  were 
to  take  up  the  march  for  the  coast-lands  brought  a  large 
concourse  of  men,  women,  and  children  to  Colmey  Place. 
The  weather  was  fine,  the  day  calm  and  grand,  the  moon- 
light silvered  tree  and  brook  with  sheen   and   splendor. 

397 


398  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Wagon  loads  of  barbecue,  cakes,  and  sowens,  and  pies 
came  to  regale  the  last  days  of  the  soldiers'  stay.  The 
people  called  it  May  Montfort's  Love  Feast.  Every  day 
now  was  a  carnival,  every  heart  beat  happy.  All  over 
America,  France  was  being  hurrahed  for  and  the  Lilies  of 
France  were  the  popular  flowers  of  all  the  Continental 
troops.  Major  Iredell  had  been  recommended  for  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel and  Captain  Hawks  for  Major  of  the  Bat- 
talion. General  Washington  had  ordered  LaFayette  and 
Rochambeau  to  steadily  converge  their  several  forces  on 
Yorktown.  It  had  become  known  that  the  Americans  had 
triumphed  over  the  German  Hessian  troops,  and  hope  and 
courage  now  filled  the  hearts  of  the  American  people. 

The  evening  feed  call  had  been  sounded  and  the  men 
were  giving  attention  to  their  neighing  horses.  Unnoticed, 
a  tired  trooper  and  mount  came  into  camp  and  inquired  for 
the  commanding  officer.  He  was  informed  and,  riding  up 
to  the  Colonel's  tent,  the  guard  called  for  Lieutenant  Pogue, 
Colonel  Colmey's  military  secretary. 

The  papers  were  orders  from  General  Washington  to 
"report  to  my  headquarters,"  etc. 

"Lieutenant  Pogue,  be  ready  to  accompany  me  early  in 
the  morning,  and  go  over  and  tell  Humphrey  I  want  him  to 
go  with  us." 

"Remo,  have  my  horse  ready  by  peep  of  day,  and  saddle 
for  yourself  Black  Nan;  the  ride  will  be  rough." 

"Marse  Jean,  you  ride  Martel  and  let  Merlin  rest." 

"No,  have  Merlin  ready." 

Remo  went  away  grumbling. 

Colonel  Colmey  went  at  once  and  visited  the  sick  and 
wounded,  as  was  his  habit  daily.  He  found  Lieutenants 
McClammy  and  Turner  almost  well  enough  from  their 
wounds  to  rejoin  their  commands. 

"Iredell,  I  divine  that  our  Commander-in-Chief  desires 
to  hear  about  the  Tories  and  half-breeds  and  to  impress 
upon  me  the  importance  of  fighting  the  British  near  Wil- 


Departure  of  the  Battalion  399 

mington  every  time  an  opportunity  presents  itself.  We 
can  but  believe  that  constant  drilling,  dashes  at  the  enemy, 
and  sham  battles,  and  scoutings,  and,  also,  the  constant 
cultivation  of  a  spirit  of  bon  homme  in  camp  and  a  coura- 
geous disregard  of  life  and  danger  in  front  of  the  enemy 
has  made  our  Battalion  so  many  game  sports.  Iredell, 
you  must  keep  sounding  into  our  troopers'  ears  our  motto, 
'Danger  and  Death  to  the  Devil.' 

Arriving  at  headquarters,  between  Richmond  and  Peters- 
burg, an  air  of  confidence  pervaded  the  entire  premises, 
and  a  certain  amount  of  court  manners  was  seen  to  be  duly 
observed. 

Generals  Washington  and  LaFayette  had  been  to  Peters- 
burg the  day  before  and  questioned  the  leading  citizens  as 
to  General  Arnold's  and  General  Phillips's  stay  in  their 
city  and  the  supposed  number  of  troops  in  their  command. 

The  North  Carolinians  were  received  cordially  by  the 
staff  officers  and,  after  announcing  their  arrival,  an  officer 
came  and  invited  them  to  the  presence  of  the  Commander. 
General  Washington  pleasantly  inquired  as  to  the  spirit  of 
the  people  of  Carolina,  as  to  the  supply  of  food,  were  the 
Tories  and  half-breeds  troublesome.  Colmey  noticed 
maps,  on  tables  and  hanging  on  the  walls,  of  James  River, 
Yorktown,  and  Norfolk  Harbor.  A  sealed  package  was 
handed  Colmey.  The  General  arose,  all  bowed  reverently 
and  retired. 

General  Washington  was  the  very  majesty  of  calmness; 
General  LaFayette,  vivacious,  talkative.  They  were  very 
dissimilar  in  appearance  and  poise;  yet,  in  purpose  and 
spirit,  LaFayette  was  the  counterpart  of  the  great  American 
chieftain. 

The  American  forces  had  suffered  great  privations,  but 
the  people,  the  army,  and  the  navy,  had  met  the  issues  with 
patience  and  courage.  Howe  and  Nash  had  led  their  North 
Carolinians  on  fields  of  sister  states,  led  them  to  victory 
and  many  to  death.     Davie  and  Graham,  Davidson  and 


400  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

Lenoir,  Shelby  and  Sevier,  had  lent  their  force,  their 
weight,  their  valor,  to  the  cause  of  America  unflinchingly. 
As  a  matter  of  course  the  passage  at  arms  at  Guilford 
Court  House  led  Virginia  and  Maryland  to  offer  very 
kindly  to  claim  all  the  honors  of  that  eventful  occasion; 
but  oh,  no!  Go  slow,  North  Carolina  was  there.  The 
spirit  of  the  revolt  at  Wilmington,  the  Tea  Party  at  Eden- 
ton,  had  filled  the  State  with  a  shout:  "Our  altars  and  our 
firesides!"  The  romantic  rides  of  Betsy  Dowdy  on  her 
shaggy  pony,  May  Hooks  Slocumb  on  her  midnight-hued 
mare,  were  told  and  retold  around  the  firesides  of  Carolina ; 
and  withal,  the  crowning  point,  the  apogee  on  the  sea,  was 
reached  by  John  Paul  Jones,  the  wonderful,  the  glorious 
protege  of  the  Jones  family  of  Halifax.  Carolina  was 
feeling  her  way  to  greatness! 

The  camp  at  Colmey  Place  was  all  astir.  Orders  had 
been  read  out  to  pack  and  be  ready  to  march  southward  at 
any  moment.     The  troopers  felt  all  aglee. 

"Here,  boys,  I  say!  It  is  all  right,  but  damn  me,  if  our 
Colonel  don't  pet  the  Boars;  yes,  until  yet." 

"Oh,  Nixon,  for  God's  sake,  hush!" 

Colonel  Colmey  had  quietly  given  orders  for  a  platoon 
of  the  second  squadron,  under  Lieutenant  Rodman,  to  go 
ahead  by  several  hours  and  get  news  of  the  British,  their 
location,  their  numbers,  who  was  in  command.  The  wag- 
ons were  getting  into  line,  the  artillery  shone  like  polished 
gold.  Then  could  be  heard  over  the  breaking-up  camp, 
"Ah!  boys,  now  for  near  home  and  a  rapid  run  to 
mother's." 

All  the  servants  of  Colmey  Place  and  Montfort  were 
present  and  dressed  in  their  best.  Mrs.  Montfort  was 
calm  and  a  sweet  smile  was  on  her  face.  She  was  deeply 
affected  by  the  attention  paid  to  May  by  the  Battalion. 

"Jean,  Uncle  Osborne  wishes  to  go  with  us,  live  and  die 
with  us." 


Departure  of  the  Battalion  401 


"All  right,  May.  Tell  Mr.  Bartlett,  Remo,  to  make  the 
arrangements." 

Oh,  the  many  aged  hearts  that  are  made  to  ache,  the 
many  tears  silently  shed  by  parents,  over  the  indifference 
manifested  toward  them  by  their  own  offspring!  Children 
often  forget  the  divine  law  that  cannot  be  set  aside  with 
impunity,  "Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother." 

Jean  Colmey  stole  away  from  the  bustle  and  racket  of 
camp  and  sadly  communed  with  his  own  heart.  Here  was 
where  his  people  had  lived — had  their  loves,  their  ambi- 
tions, their  troubles,  their  dislikes.  Here  he  had  first  met 
May  Montfort.  To  him  the  fields  looked  broader  and  more 
inviting  than  ever  before.  From  the  orchard  came  a  sweet 
fragrance,  and  the  old  trees  never  before  looked  so  grand, 
so  sheltering.  The  wondrous  firmament  above  the  glowing 
of  nature's  night  lamps — beauteous  gems — they  awed  him 
by  their  startling,  steady  splendor. 

Colmey  Place  was  never  so  graced  by  numbers,  by 
friends,  by  soldiers;  and  May,  his  May,  was  queen!  Near 
here  he  had  fought  the  fight  of  his  life  at  Montfort  Manor, 
and  he  placed  his  hand  on  his  head  and  prayerfully  said, 
"Divine  Ruler  of  men  and  events,  Thou  didst  spare  Thy 
servant;  make  him  useful,  make  him  good." 

From  over  in  the  artillery  park  huzzas  and  bravos  came, 
borne  upon  the  wind,  the  slogan — "We  are  here  and  ready, 
Colonel";  and  the  Queen  Anne  men  were  burnishing  their 
heavy  guns  and  singing: 

"Come,  live  with  me  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  will  all  the  pleasures  prove 
That  hills  and  valleys,  dales  and  fields; 
Yes,  then  I  will  make  thee  a  bed  of  roses, 
Embroidered  with  leaves  of  myrtle  and  posies; 
Then  live  with  me  and  be  my  love." 

The  battery  at  early  sunrise  had  awakened  the  people 
for  several  miles  around  by  the  boom!  boom!  of  the  guns. 

26 


402  The  Fair  Lady  of  Halifax 

The  countryside  awoke  and  remembered  that  today  the 
Battalion  was  to  march  away  to  meet  the  British  near 
Wilmington  "in  battle's  stern  array."  On  the  tip  of  every 
tongue  was  a  good-bye  to  the  neighing  steeds  of  the  rollick- 
ing Cavaliers,  the  bonhomme  Light  Horse,  to  the  proud, 
sedate  Guards.  The  eye  of  the  country  was  on  Colmey 
Place.  The  people  had  come  to  listen  to  the  blare  of  the 
noisy  trumpets  and  to  see  wheel  into  line  the  bristling 
artillery,  backed  up  by  the  caparisoned  steeds  and  the 
armed  and  booted  troopers.  Major  Iredell  rode  up  and 
asked  for  orders. 

"Go,  Iredell,  and  give  out  that  we  move  promptly  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon." 

Gray  Gretchen  and  Lady  Tarleton  were  in  charge  of 
Tasker,  and  each  mare  was  descanted  upon  as  to  her  beauty 
and  her  former  master.  The  old  citizens  passed  among  the 
men  of  the  Battalion  and  heartily  wished  them  much  good 
luck  and  many  victories. 

The  time  drawing  near  for  the  departure  of  the  Battalion, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Sitgreaves  offered  up  prayer  for  America, 
for  Colmey  and  his  wife,  and  for  his  gallant  Six  Hundred. 

May  Colmey  looked  so  happy.  She  sat  bespeckled 
Imogene,  whose  golden  gloss  seemed  to  have  caught  the 
yellowest  rays  of  the  sweet  sunshine.  She  sat  lightly  her 
bonny  beast,  habited  in  dark-green  riding  suit. 

Colonel  Colmey,  mounted  upon  Merlin,  lifted  his  hat  and 
there  was  silence :  "My  most  worthy  friends  and  most  kind 
neighbors,  the  hour  has  come  for  us  to  part.  Duty  calls. 
I  most  humbly  beg  many  morrows,  many  months  and  years 
of  health  and  prosperity  to  you,  one  and  all."  Cheer  after 
cheer  went  up  from  the  troopers  when  they  saw  riding  to- 
wards them  their  beloved  leader  and  his  beautiful  wife. 
Imogene  coquetted  with  her  silver  bit;  the  great  black 
stallion,  lusty  and  prancing,  proudly  sidestepped,  aggraced 
with  his  rider,  who  was  holding  him  well  in  hand  by  a 
powerful  mouth  curb. 


Departure  of  the  Battalion  403 

Acting  Captain  Humphrey  had  to  sharply  speak  to  the 
Guards:  "Restrain  yourselves,  men!"  Never  before  had 
they  seen  their  old  captain  hold  himself  so  grandly.  "There 
he  is,  boys!  Our  old  captain  forever!"  jealously  clamored 
Colmey's  old  command.  May's  cheeks  were  crimson  with 
happiness.    The  Colonel  smiled  and  bowed  to  the  Guards. 

Ensign  Hill  rode  up  and  planted  the  colors.  Adjutant 
Grimes  spurred  his  mettled  charger  to  the  front  and  called 
out,  "Dress  on  your  colors!"  Major  Iredell,  riding  his 
blood-bay  mare,  Ursula,  gave  loud,  clear  orders,  "Atten- 
tion, Battalion!  Draw  sabers;  By  fours,  forward,  march! 
Guide  right!"  For  a  moment  there  was  a  hush.  Then 
handkerchiefs  were  fluttering,  parasols  waving,  soft  lips 
were  chanting:  "Good-bye,  May  Montfort,  good-bye!" 
Then  the  men  stood  forth  with  hats  off  and  in  stentorian 
tones  were  shouting:  "God  bless  you,  May  Colmey — our 
Fair  Lady  of  Halifax — farewell!" 

The  bugles  were  sounding  tra-la-la!  Sabers  were  flash- 
ing, cannons  were  gleaming,  and  in  the  deep  shades  of  the 
majestic  trees  of  the  distant  woodlands  Colmey's  Six 
Hundred  vanished  from  view. 


NOTES 

Assistance  acknowledged  from  the  following  valuable  volumes, 
viz.: 

1.  Lawson's  History.     (One  of  the  most  readable  of  books.) 

2.  Hawks's  History. 

3.  Martin's  History. 

4.  Wheeler's  History;  Dividing  Line,  page  41. 

5.  Hill's  History. 

6.  Ashe's  History. 

7.  Dodge's  History  (Indians). 

8.  Catlin's  Indians. 

9.  U.  S.  Indian  Legends. 

10.  Colonial  Records. 

11.  Smithsonian  Reports. 

12.  Colonel  Fred  Olds:  Tuscarora  Indians. 

13.  Encyclopedia  Britannica. 

14.  Shakespeare. 

15.  Burns. 

16.  Milton. 

17.  The  History  of  Scotland:  Its  Highlands  and  Clans  (Browne) . 

18.  Chambers'  Encyclopedia. 

19.  Edinburgh  Reviews 

20.  Green's  History. 

21.  Magazines  of  Foreign  Literature. 


405 


BALGRAY 

"Lead,  kindly  light! 
The  night  is  dark  and  I  am  far  from  home — 
/  do  not  ask  to  see 

The  distant  scene — one  step  enough  for  me 
Till  the  night  is  gone" 

Balgray  of  Bertie,  on  west  shore  of  Chowan  River,  was  named 
in  remembrance  after  the  roof-tree  in  Renfrewshire,  Scotland. 

It  was  customary  of  the  members  of  that  family  to  take  turns  in 
home  affairs,  and  when  the  King  called,  to  march  away  to  meet  the 
foe — in  grim  Normandy,  war-cursed  Flanders,  or  vine-clad,  chiv- 
alric  France,  there  to  fight  and  conquer,  or  there  to  fall  near  their 
flag.  "Noblesse  oblige"  was  made  obligatory.  The  strong,  wide 
hut  was  in  due  time  succeeded  by  the  roomy,  fast-built,  sturdy, 
two-story  homeplace.  Baron  DeGraffenried  and  his  many  follow- 
ers were  profusely  maintained  here.  Governor  Eden  loved  to 
spend  days  at  Balgray,  and  friends  and  weary  travelers  were  here 
hospitably  entertained  and  encouraged  to  partake  of  the  cheer  and 
comfort  of  Colonel  Pollock's  spacious  domain. 

Here,  around  the  library  table,  in  seasons  of  distress  and  dan- 
gers, the  nerve  and  brains  of  the  Colony  gathered.  It  is  told 
Indian  children  were  made  afraid  when  the  name  of  Balgray  was 
mentioned  before  them. 

Changes  came,  the  green  and  golden  days  gave  way  to  gray- 
golden.  Time  to  us  leaves  only  the  traditional  misty  romance 
and  glory  of  this  once  frequented  mansion.  The  best  manners  of 
the  time  were  observed  here.  Here  the  fleur-de-lis  was  pre- 
eminently cultivated. 

The  sere  and  yellow-leaf  days  came  and  "West  Shore  Stop- 
Over,"  or,  as  many  called  it,  Balgray,  today  is  but  a  reverential 
reminiscency.  The  great  poplars  and  locust  trees  have  fallen — 
not  an  English  brick  can  be  seen — not  one  of  the  thousands  that 
went  to  build  the  chimneys  of  this  once  notable  domicile. 

If  Balgray  is  no  more — Carolina  is  a  glorious  reality.     Selah! 

Mark  you  well:  purposeful  deeds  are  deathless. 

Every  true  Englishman  stands  up — anywhere  on  earth — and 
proudly  speaks  of  Surrey-Runnymede;  and  every  native-born 
North  Carolinian — on  land  or  on  sea — with  a  full  glowing  heart 
names  the  name  of  West  Shore  Balgray! 


406 


THE  TRUE  STORY  OF  THE  TUSCARORA  INDIANS 

(Colonel  Olds) 

The  most  dreaded  of  the  old  Indian  tribes  anywhere  in  this 
section  of  the  country  was  the  Tuscaroras,  who  were  at  one  time 
able  to  muster  more  than  five  thousand  warriors.  From  the 
moment  the  whites  began  to  set  foot  anywhere  away  from  the  coast 
they  began  to  feel  the  power  of  the  Tuscaroras,  who  had  their 
chief  towns,  known  to  the  whites  as  Nahunke  and  Kohunke;  these 
being  really  fortified  places  at  a  point  about  seventy-five  miles 
east  of  Raleigh.  These  Indians  were  not  only  bloodthirsty  as 
regards  the  whites,  but  all  other  Indians  were  afraid  of  them,  and 
they  made  long  journeys  in  very  strong  and  well  armed  bands  as 
far  south  as  Florida  and  as  far  north  as  Canada,  and  on  occasions 
west  as  far  as  the  Mississippi  River,  and  are  said  to  have  had 
some  terrible  encounters  with  Shawnees,  Creeks,  and  Choctaws; 
but  they  appear  to  have  been  more  friendly  toward  the  Cherokee 
Indians,  who  inhabited  western  North  Carolina,  eastern  Ten- 
nessee, and  a  small  part  of  Georgia  and  South  Carolina.  In 
1712  these  Tuscaroras  rose  and  made  a  great  massacre  of  whites, 
in  a  territory  between  what  is  now  Raleigh  and  the  coast.  This 
massacre  was  planned  by  three  of  their  chiefs,  and  they  killed  the 
settlers,  burned  their  homes,  and  destroyed  their  crops. 

Governor  Thomas  Pollock,  who  had  military  ability,  saw  the 
necessity  of  asking  help  and  felt  compelled  to  call  for  aid  from 
both  Virginia  and  South  Carolina.  Colonel  Moore  came  up  from 
South  Carolina  with  a  strong  detachment  of  whites  and  a  thousand 
of  the  friendly  Yemassee  Indians,  the  latter  having  declared  they 
would  join  any  expedition  against  the  Tuscaroras  on  condition 
that  each  of  them  could  take  back  an  Indian  as  a  slave.  There 
was  another  very  valuable  ally  in  the  person  of  Baron  de  Graffen- 
ried,  who  had  recently  settled  in  Craven  County  and  named  his 
town  New  Bern,  in  honor  of  the  Swiss  Capital.  De  Graffenried 
had  with  him  some  Swiss  artillery,  and  this  was  invaluable  in  the 
assault  upon  the  two  Tuscarora  towns. 


407 


THE  DISTINGUE  OF  THE  THREE  SQUADRONS 

The  distinguishing  marks  of  the  three  squadrons  was  turned 
over  by  Colonel  Colmey  to  the  quartermaster  of  the  Battalion. 
He  at  once  had  a  Wilmington  jobber  to  order  from  Philadelphia 
three  separate  dies,  or  metal  block-plates,  so  that  an  impression 
of  Boar,  Wild  Cat,  and  Bear  could  be  made  indellibly  upon  the 
left  sleeve  of  every  trooper.  Every  blanket  of  the  three  had  this 
distinguishing  impress  upon  it.  Upon  the  left  side  of  the  Colonel's 
tent  was  seen,  distinctly  stamped,  the  Boar,  the  Wild  Cat,  and 
the  Bear.  It  was  remarkable  to  notice  that  each  chosen  animal 
representative  of  the  respective  squadrons  was  jealously  regarded 
by  the  jolly  troopers  composing  Colmey's  Battalion. 


408 


